Hidden in the Shadows
by Myst Marshall
Summary: Her missing past was a part of her she wasn't sure that she was going to get back, but when a Blackthorne Boy shows up in her life, doing what Blackthorne Boys do best: making cryptic comments and annoying her, fragments of her memories return. PRO: You finally understand Blackthorne Boy's cryptic comments. CON: There were some things that were meant to be forgotten. OC, old chars
1. Chapter 1

Spies come in all varieties. Some say to be a good spy, one has to be a kickass bombshell like the infamous Rebecca Baxter, who has taken up a position at the M16. Others say to be a good spy, one has to be smart like the renown Elizabeth Sutton, who has been known to crack the hardest databases around the world. Perhaps some may also say to be a good spy, one should possess the grace and elegance of Macey McHenry, currently part of the secret service team for the president. But most of all, most people say to be a good spy, one must be able to disappear, quite literally, just like a chameleon, embodied by none other than Cameron Morgan.

Amy babbled on besides me about her excitement for sublevel two on our way down the grand staircase. Even when we entered the elevator, surrounded by ten other girls buzzing with the same excitement about finally getting to see sublevel two, I couldn't muster up an ounce of emotion, whether is was anxiety, excitement, or even curiosity. Even when I surveyed the girls around me, their expressions ranging from curiosity to over the top happiness or nervousness, I didn't feel anything.

The elevator came to a still, the doors sliding open and we filed out with all the grace taught to us by Madame Dabney.

"Fingerprint identification," the automated voice trilled as Nicole walked up to the heavy metal doors. Without a moment's hesitation, she placed her thumb on the pad, flinching slightly when the needle pricked her thumb. Nicole removed her thumb when the green light flashed, granting her access.

One by one, the rest of us followed in Nicole's footsteps, each girl flinching slightly at the needle prick even though all of us knew it was coming, which our Cove Ops teacher would certainly scold us for not carefully masking our feelings.

I was the last of twelve girls to walk up to the pad, right after Amy, who shot me an encouraging smile before entering through the doors and into sublevel two. I stared at the identification pad for a few moments before being prompted by the automated voice. Slowly, I placed my thumb over the pad and waited for the familiar prick, but it never came. Instead, the next thing I was aware of was the flashing green light. I jerked by thumb off of the pad, and saw a tiny stream of blood running down my thumb. Numbly, I went through the doors, wondering why I didn't feel the needle.

The other eleven girls were huddled in the corner, whispering in hush voices amongst themselves. Amy glanced up and waved me over to join them.

"Sublevel two," Amy whispered to me, "Is right behind that door."

"So why are we huddled outside?" I asked.

"A good operative doesn't barge into unknown places without any sort of preparation," Nicole scolded, overhearing my question.

"We're speculating all the possible situations so we can be prepared before we enter the door," Jenny added.

"A good operative is never late. Late means problems, which can delay your comrades if there are any relying on you to be in position at a certain time. A good operative needs to be able to think on the spot; there isn't always time to prepare," I countered, breaking away from the group and heading towards the door, with the girls calling after me. Footsteps thudded against the pavement and suddenly, I wasn't standing alone in front of the door, with a hand on the doorknob.

"A good Gallagher Girl doesn't let her sister walk into danger alone," Angela stated, earning nods from all the other girls. I cracked a smile at their camaraderie before signalling to be ready. On the count of three, I twisted the doorknob, pushing the door open and entered into the room.

Out of the corner of my eyes, I saw a silhouette reaching out towards me. I felt hands on my shoulders as I grabbed onto the arm, using all my strength to flip the person over my shoulder. My lack of strength resulted in person falling to the ground next to me, not quite in front me like I expected, but I was on him in an instant, pinning him to the ground. Besides me, I registered the other girls doing the same with the other assailants, some successfully pinning them down, while others were subdued by the guys.

"Not bad," a deep voice spoke, jerking my attention off of the others and onto the guy who was smirking at me, despite being pinned to the ground by my weight.

"Why are you here?"

"Perhaps you can start with asking who they are," a voice commented from behind me. Out of pure reflex, I turned around, my hands already in position to ward off the newcomer only to come face to face with Mr. Soloman. Mentally I cursed myself for not recognizing his voice, but in my defense, I was already frazzled from the unexpected presence of boys in our school.

"What is there to ask? Blackthorne Boys, right?" Mr. Soloman only gave a slight smile at my answer. I scrambled off of the boy beneath me, while the other girls followed suit, and the guys releasing the girls as well. Nicole muttered a curse under her breath as she rubbed her arm after the guy released her. Angela looked smug that she managed to subdue a guy twice her size, while the guy next to her averted his eyes away from her in shame.

Jenny was asking Mr. Soloman questions, but I tuned her out in favor of surveying each of the twelve boys that stood among us. Although by this point I already had all of their features ingrained in their minds, there was something tugging at the back of my memory, especially when I looked at the boy who I had pinned to the ground.

Fragments of memories flooded into my mind all at once, leaving me lightheaded and taken aback. I stumbled backwards slightly, the boy wrapping his arms around me to catch me, but it seemed that he was the only one who noticed my stumble. The rest of the boys and girls were focused intently on what Mr. Soloman was saying.

"Welcome to Sublevel Two," Mr. Soloman stated, gesturing to the tables that lined up neatly in rows, "Take a seat."

"Wait, aren't we going to have introductions?" Jenny questioned, halting everyone's movements.

"A good operative doesn't need introductions," I stated flatly.

"Oh wow, if you're so confident then why don't you-" a boy with dirty blond hair began, but I immediately cut him off.

"Lucas Newman," I stated, before turning to the boy next to him, "Justin Maverick." I continued, moving on to the boy standing next to him until I finally reached the boy who silently stood besides me, with his hands tucked into his pockets and a smirk on his face.

"Oh?" the boy questioned, raising an eyebrow at me, "You know who everyone is except me?" I was positive I met him before, the fragments of my memories showed me a ten year old version of him, but I couldn't remember his name. All I could hear in my mind was him calling my name, echoing over and over again in my mind.

"You're remembering your past," Mr. Soloman stated, rather than asked. Amy immediately came to my side, placing a comforting hand on my shoulders while the other girls looked on with various expressions of sympathy. My missing memories was no secret to them, but it didn't make me feel any less self conscious when I couldn't remember anything.

"You shouldn't force yourself to remember," Amy whispered into my ear. She was right, I knew, but I couldn't ignore the intensity of the boy's stare.

"Who are you and how do you know our names?" Lucas demanded, but I didn't even know how to begin answering his question because I didn't know. Luckily I was saved from answering because the boy cut in.

"Don't you remember? She's Bethany, the girl who went to Blackthorne with us." At this, he turned to stare intently at me.

"I'm hurt that you don't remember me," he said, addressing me this time, "I was your best friend, but you remember the rest of these guys." The boy made a grand gesture of sweeping his hands around the room to gesture to all of the guys.

"Stop pushing her," Amy spoke up, "Her mind can't handle that pressure, right now. I think she remembered enough stuff for today."

"Oh wow, you can't speak for yourself now?" the boy commented mockingly, leading Amy to take a menacing step forward, giving him her best Gallagher Girl glare, which normally was enough to make anyone back down, but he barely twitched.

"You can't do anything to me, princess." Amy was about to say something back, but Mr. Soloman finally cut in.

"That's enough, Max. All of you take a seat," Mr. Soloman commanded, walking to the front of the room. Slowly, all of us began making our way to the seats, the divide clearly visible: Gallagher Girls on the right and Blackthorne Boys on the left. The other girls had taken great care to surround me, so I wouldn't end up in the middle and sit by one of the boys. Calie, Molly, and Em wore a sore look on their faces as they sat in their seats next to the boys, not so subtly scooting their chair as far away from them as they could.

"You may not like everyone you're working with," Mr. Soloman was saying, not missing the hostility that was emitting between the two groups, "But out in the field, you have to learn to trust them even if you don't like them because they might just end up being the ones that save your life." I could tell that all of the girls heard his words, but no one was taking his words to heart.

Mr. Soloman continued on, lecturing all of us on the rules of an ambush and the importance of the element of surprise, occasionally calling one of us out to quiz us. Mr. Soloman called on Justin to evaluate their strengths and weaknesses of their attack on us earlier, earning a smug look from Molly when he mentioned that they had underestimated their strength.

"Ms. Anderson, name a mistake you made today."

"Complacency," I answered without a moment's hesitation.

"That's correct," Mr. Soloman commented, "Inside the walls of the Gallagher Academy, you have no one to compare yourselves to, except each other. You may be the best among your fellow peers, take Cameron Morgan for example, but in the real word, there's still someone out there that's better than you, which is why the Headmistress has decided to make a permanent exchange. These boys will be graduating with you, so learn to trust them."

PRO: There were more students for Mr. Soloman to cold call on so the chances that I would be called on were smaller, going from 1/12 to 1/24 to be exact.

CON: They were going to be here for four semesters.

PRO: Our dislike for them drastically strengthened our camaraderie to a whole new level, which we originally thought was impossible.

CON: Mr. Soloman would undoubtedly force us to work with them, despite our dislike towards them.

PRO: It kept underclassmen from asking us annoying questions as they were too busy staring at the boys.

CON: They were invading our territory.

Upon finding out that Justin, Cole, Lucas, and Max had taken over our favorite spot in the library next to the window, we retreated back to our room, each of us sitting on our on beds.

"I can't believe you went to Blackthorne before," Calie commented, sitting cross legged on her bed with a magazine in her lap, "Isn't Blackthorne an infamous school for assassins?"

"But Mr. Soloman is changing the curriculum so it's not as cut throat as before," Angela replied, laying flat on her back as she held a mirror in the air with one hand and reapplying her lipstick with the other.

"Not good enough. They'll be in for a rude awakening during Culture and Assimilation class," Amy huffed, clearly still not over Max's rudeness. Angela let out a good nature laugh.

"You shouldn't let a boy get under your skin like that," Angela stated.

"It's easy for you to say that," Amy retorted, "You are the embodiment of nonchalant."

"I was friends with them," I suddenly blurted out, earning their attention. Angela snapped her compact mirror shut, tossing it onto her bed and sitting straight up upon my announcement.

"I grew up with them," I elaborated, "I remember going to class with them when we were younger."

"Do you remember anything else?" Amy gently asked, careful to not prod me too far, not after I had a breakdown last year from picking my memories too much.

"I killed Max's brother."

* * *

 **A/N: Hey guys! This story is mainly focused around new characters, but the old gang will make an appearance in the later chapters because I love them too much to leave them out. The Amy in this story is the same one in the last book. Please let me know what you think! Thanks for reading!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own anything except new characters. :)**

 **-MM**


	2. Chapter 2

Amy and I followed the wave of girls down the grand staircase on our way to the dining halls. Some of the underclassmen did a double take upon seeing twelve boys sitting side by side at the long table, casually eating there as if they belonged there. Seeing boys at an all girl's school wasn't all that strange, since Gallagher Academy decided upon an exchange program to expose us to potential comrades in the future, yet this time they were here to stay for good. There was no looking forward to the end of the semester for normalcy again.

The strangest thing was seeing Molly and Jenny sitting among the boys, chatting happily with them, their laughs echoing through the dining halls as if they had been friends forever. The underclassmen eyed Molly and Jenny with jealousy as they shoveled a piece of pancake into their mouths.

Hesitantly, Nicole and Em joined their roommates at the table. Em stood up to reach for the crisp, light-brown pancakes in the middle of the table, but was beaten to it by Cole, who helped her stack two pancakes on her empty plate and handed her the syrup bottle with a dazzling smile. Em returned a quiet mutter of thanks, her cheeks red from the exchange.

Amy and I exchanged confused looks as we awkwardly stood at the base of the grand stairs, wishing that Angela and Calie would hurry up. The other four girls in our grade, Gina, Lily, Karen, and Sera breezed past us, and made a beeline towards the table, taking their seats as if there wasn't an additional twelve members. Much to Amy's delight, the four of them were resolutely ignoring the boys, despite their attempts to be friendly to them.

"What's up with that?" Angela asked from behind me. I shrugged in response and followed her and Calie as they headed to the table, claiming the last empty seats at the junior table.

PRO: We arrived "fashionably late."

CON: We didn't have a choice in seating.

PRO: I was lucky to have such supportive roommates because Angela signed in resignation before voluntarily plopping down in the seat between Max and Lucas. Calie took the seat on Max's other side.

CON: That left me to sit next to Justin.

PRO: At least it wasn't Max.

CON: I was sitting across the table from Max, giving him more chances to drill holes into my skull.

"I think we got off on the wrong foot yesterday," Lucas said, addressing the four of us in his vicinity, "Ambushing you guys was an assignment given by Soloman. We couldn't exactly say no."

"We know," Calie responded, mid-chew.

"Then why are you still so hostile towards us?" Lucas questioned, wordlessly handing over the syrup bottle when Amy gestured for it.

"Because Max is a jackass," Angela bluntly stated, "I don't care what Beth did to you in the past, but she doesn't remember anything, so you can shove your snide remarks up your ass."

Max rolled his eyes, "It's called playful bantering. I didn't realize Bethany lost all her memories. And I think you and Amy will do her a favor if you stop speaking up for her."

"That's none of your concern," Angela huffed.

Max threw up his hands in mock surrender, "Just a suggestion. I didn't realize Gallagher Girls were so vicious."

While Max and Angela continued to bicker, Calie fell into a comfortable conversation with Amy and Lucas. Justin was an onlooker, occasionally tossing in random comments to Max and Angela's argument, but for the most part he stayed quiet. I ate my breakfast quietly, not able to enjoy my food. I tuned out the chatter around me, reminding me of Max's words from yesterday in hopes of triggering another memory. Nothing.

A chill went down my spine as my eyes suddenly snapped open, my head whipping around to see the silhouette of a tall figure darting away. Immediately, I jumped out of my seat, ceasing Max and Angela's bickering. Ignoring their calls, I made my way up the grand staircase, two steps at a time, with another pair of footsteps behind me.

When I reached the top, I felt a pair of hands on my shoulders, pulling me back from chasing after the shadow that disappeared around the corner.

"What are you doing?" Max asked, not releasing his hold on me despite all of my attempts to break free.

"There was someone," I managed to get out, finally breaking free from Max's grasp, "An intruder."

"You must be imagining things," Max stated. I turned around, imitating Amy's glare as best as I could.

"I'm not crazy."

"I know. I never said you were."

"I'm not crazy," I repeated, emphasizing each word carefully. Without waiting for Max's response, I took off down the hall, reaching the turn where I had last seen the shadow only to find emptiness. Logically, that should had been the case since there were numerous rooms and passageways to hide in, but I couldn't help but feel a twinge of disappointment.

"If there was really an intruder, doesn't Gallagher Academy have security measures in place? We would had been alerted by now," Max stated calmly as he stood besides me.

"The security measures are good, but not that good," another voice said from behind both of us, "After all Bethany got through the security measures, didn't you?"

Max and I turned around at the same time; Max stepping in front of me, shielding me, his posture rigid. Brown tousled hair, green eyes, tall lanky frame...Max relaxed upon verifying the identity of the man, but he was a stranger to me.

"Fancy meeting you here, Max," the stranger spoke, extending a hand out. Max smirked before reciprocating with their complicated handshake.

"You don't have to act like you didn't know I was going to be here, Zach," Max replied.

"Another Blackthorne Boy?" I questioned, eyeing the stranger curiously. He looked like he was in his twenties, too old to still be studying at Blackthorne, but I couldn't come up with any plausible reason as to why Max would know someone outside of Blackthorne.

"Blackthorne alum," Zach corrected, extending a hand out towards me, "Nice to meet you, Bethany." I took his hand, not even bothering to question how he knew my name. If Cameron Morgan was the girl famous for being overseen, overlooked, then Zachary Goode was equally as famous for being someone who knew all sorts of information that he shouldn't know.

"Why were you spying on us?" I demanded.

"You have sharp eyes," Zach commented, not even bothering to acknowledge my question, "If you don't hurry, you'll be late."

With that, Max gave a head nod to Zach before latching onto my arm and dragging me away from Zach and towards the direction of our first class, Countries of the World.

"Why are you helping Zach dodge my question?" I asked as Max and I took the last two remaining seats in the back right as Mr. Moscowitz began class. Amy and Angela tossed me curious looks, gesturing not so subtly to Max, while I gestured to them that I would tell them later.

"You ask too many questions," Max said, "Blackthorne taught us not to question things; if we were supposed to know, we will know in due time. Don't tell me you forgot that too?"

"I don't remember anything," I whispered, staring at the letters on the board that were starting to bleed together, "I don't remember anything.

* * *

It turned out Zach's presence at the Gallagher Academy was one that I was supposed to get an answer to. In CoveOps, Mr. Soloman introduced Zach to the class, as if anyone didn't already know who he was, at least the reputation that preceded him.

"There's two kinds of hiding," Mr. Soloman explained, "One is hiding in plain sight. The other is hiding in the shadows. During breakfast, Zach was hiding in five different spots around Gallagher Academy, observing all of you for the entire thirty minutes and none of you noticed him except for Ms. Anderson. Even so, she noticed him too late.

"Time is crucial," Mr. Soloman continued, "In those thirty minutes, Zach has figured out all your strengths and weaknesses, habits, speech patterns, and much more. If he was a real enemy today, then all of you would had been compromised."

"We noticed Zach was there," Cole drawled, "Blackthorne trained us for this kind of things, so I don't believe it's fair to lump us into the same category as the girls. Besides, Bethany ran after Zach, which is the one thing you're never supposed to do when you realize there is eyes on you."

"You are only as strong as your weakest link," Mr. Soloman replied, "Since yesterday, all of you became a team. I suggest you start working like one if you want to make it to Sublevel Three."

* * *

The rest of the day passed rather uneventfully. Although no one would admit it, everyone was disappointed with themselves that the Blackthorne Boys managed to one up us. Since seventh grade, we believed that we were top notch spies, yet Mr. Soloman was right. There was always someone out there that was better than us.

After Culture and Assimilation class, I slipped away into one of the secret passageways while Angela and Calie headed towards the library and Amy went to the P&E barn for more training. I sat on the hard ground, not caring about the dirt and dust that was certainly staining the back of my skirt, staring blankly into the darkness. My phone buzzed occasionally, probably my roommates questioning why I was skipping dinner, but I made no move to check my phone. Instead, I silenced it, relishing in the quietness.

After the original Gallagher Academy mansion was burned down five years ago, the mansion was rebuilt, using the old blueprints, with some new additions to it, such as properly ventilated lab spaces, courtesy of Dr. Fibbs, an actual ballroom, courtesy of Madame Dabney, and a grander library. At Cameron's insistence, the secret passageways were rebuilt into the new buildings albeit in different locations and sealed off from the outside. Upon stumbling into my first secret passageway on the fifth day I was here, I spent the rest of my first year and part of my second year searching for more secret passageways. Although I was certain that there were some that I still haven't found, five, now four if I excluded the one that Amy knew about, of them was enough for me to hide when I didn't want to face anyone.

At some point, I dozed off, but was awaken by voices, which I heard clearly through the wall that I was leaning against. Headmistress Morgan. Mr. Soloman. Zachary Goode. Cameron Morgan. And Max?

"Tell us what you know about Bethany, Max." Headmistress Morgan.

"I want to know how she ended up at Gallagher Academy first." Max.

"Two years ago, I found her passed out in the middle of the foyer. No one really knows how she got in through all of the security measures without triggering a code black, but she did. The doctors confirmed that she doesn't remember anything except her name. We ran her name through the database, but it came up with nothing. I imagined the case since she was still a child." Headmistress Morgan.

"I'm sure you already know everything I'm about to tell you. Bethany and I are childhood friends; we went to Blackthorne together. Sure, it was strange to see a girl at a boy school, but I don't think any of us really questioned it. I was under the impression that she was the daughter of a faculty member." Max.

"She's not. I confirmed with all faculty members." Mr. Soloman.

"Bethany always disappeared during the summers. Sometimes she came back early; other times she came back late. Then one day, my brother and her disappeared. A week later, they found my brother's body in the tunnels. Bethany was just gone; no one really knows what happened to her until now." Max.

"How many years was she missing?" Cameron.

"She disappeared when she was ten." Max.

"We found her here when she was fourteen." Headmistress Morgan.

"How is she, mentally?" Cameron.

"Amy told me she had a mental breakdown when Gina accidentally pushed her too hard to remember. Amy says sometimes Bethany disappears for a few hours and no one can ever find her in that time. She zones out and has nightmares, but Bethany doesn't remember having a nightmare the next morning. Other than that, she seems to be fine." Headmistress Morgan.

"I could talk to Bethany. I know what it's like to have a piece of you missing. Even though I can put the pieces together myself from the fragments I do remember, I don't fully remember what happened that summer. I imagine that she feels much worse about herself since she can only recall the past two years." Cameron.

"Does Bethany even want to remember?" Max.

"We think so, but we're not entirely sure." Mr. Soloman.

"Perhaps Bethany is better off not remembering. Some things aren't meant to be recalled. There was a reason why she forgot." Zach.

Zach was right, but that didn't stop me from wanting to pick at the fragments of my memories to fill in the pieces of the first fourteen years of my life. With only two years worth of memories, I felt so empty, even if they were possibly the best two years of my life. The good, the bad, the things that kept me awake during the night whether out of excitement or fear...all of that combined was what made me, me.

Despite promising Amy that I wouldn't disappear for more than twelve hours, I broke my promise that night, staying in the passageway until morning. I drifted in and out of sleep; my mind plagued with the same silhouettes that haunted my dreams for the past two years. Always, I would jerk awake at the part right as the silhouette reached towards my neck, ready to choke me.

Right from the start, it was clear to my roommates that I would have nightmares daily, at least twice throughout the night, if my thrashing about and hoarse screaming was any indication. A week after I arrived at Gallagher, I was placed in my own room, so my roommates could sleep in peace without being constantly awaken by my nightmares. Bit by bit, I began to pull myself together, muffling my screams, restricting my movements until I no longer gave any outward indication that I still had nightmares.

Despite all of my efforts to hide my discomfort, Amy could tell which nights were particularly awful for me just by looking at how dark the bags under my eyes were, but there was an unspoken agreement that Amy wouldn't question it and that I would talk to her when I was ready. Two years later, I still wasn't ready, feeling the need to hide from her to dodge her questions and the concerned look in her eyes. I didn't deserve her.

I slipped into Countries of the World unnoticed; everyone's eyes were riveted to the front of the classroom, where Mr. Moscowitz was initiating a pop quiz, cold calling on students to answer. He went around the room, calling on everyone at least twice, some even three times, but never once did he call my name.

When class I ended, I was the first to slip out the door, banking on everyone's distraction on their discussion about the pop quiz, which Mr. Moscowitz had proven to the Gallagher Girls that the Blackthorne Boys were even more knowledgeable in this aspect than them. Perhaps the only subject that the girls could best the boys at was Culture and Assimilation, which the Blackthorne curriculum paid no heed too. Yet despite that, the Blackthorne Boys had learned the steps of ballroom dancing in a mere few days, while the girls had stumbled over their steps for at least a week before showing signs of improvement.

"You've been missing for a day, guess old habits die hard," a voice said from besides me. The girl in me would had flinched and subsequently missed the next step on the stairs, thus tumbling down in an ungraceful manner, but luckily this time, my spy reflexes took over and helped me remain composed.

"The last time you saw me was sixteen hours ago. That doesn't qualify as missing," I replied evenly, wishing that Max hadn't saw me leaving. It seemed that he had an uncanny knack for always noticing me, when even my best friends couldn't find me at times.

"You skipped dinner last night and breakfast this morning. Have you eaten anything?" Max asked.

"Yes." A flat out lie, but necessary to keep Max off of my back. Luckily, Max didn't catch on to my lie and remained quiet on the rest of the way to Sublevel Two.

* * *

For the second time today, someone had caught up to me, but this time it wasn't Max to pester me with more questions or Amy to express her concern towards my disappearance last night. It was Cameron Morgan.

"Do you have time? I want to speak to you." Sincerity was ever present in her eyes, but any good spy could fake any emotion and get away with it. Her words were phrased as to be an open invitation, but I knew her offer wasn't one that was meant to be rejected and I already had a feel that I knew what this was about.

After a small nod of agreement on my part, Cameron pulled me in the library to one of the restricted rooms reserved solely for staff. Upon our entrance to the room, Cameron nodded to the couch, which I sat down in, my posture stiff. Cameron took a seat in the armchair in front of me.

"If you're trying to play therapist, don't bother," I stated flatly, "I can't tell you anything anyways." Cameron gave me a wry smile.

"Who said we were going to talk about you?" Cameron retorted, "As I'm sure you've heard, I disappeared the summer between my junior and senior year and came back with a hole in my memories."

"Why are you even telling me this?"

Cameron ignored my comment and continued on, "At first, I was angry and frustrated with myself that I couldn't remember anything because I knew that I had found something important that summer. Something that could bring down the Circle. My frustration grew even further when my mom and aunt didn't want me to try to remember what happened that summer because they feared that I had been tortured by the Circle, but despite that fear, I still wanted to know. With or without those memories, I still have nightmares every night. There were even some points where my memories led me to sleepwalking during the night to places that I had been. I was on a wild chase, and I hated it.

"I don't like the idea of not knowing, you know? Even when my mom keeps information from me because it's a 'need to know' basis, but I can understand why I'm kept in the dark. Yet, those missing memories...it pissed me off that the Circle knew more about my self-imposed mission than I did, the one who experienced it all.

"You're right to not be too trusting since I was too trusting of Dr. Steve. He turned out to be a Circle member who played mind games on me, to the point where I almost committed suicide if it wasn't for my friends.

"I'm forever grateful to my friends and my family because they were the ones who filled the void in my mind. Even today, I still cannot fully remember every detail of that summer, but I don't feel empty and alone anymore."

"A summer without memories is nothing compared to fourteen years of missing memories. I didn't know anything except my name."

"You recognized the Blackthorne Boys though," Cameron pointed out, "You still retained all of your reflexes and skills from before."

"None of that defined who I was," I countered.

"Yes, but you knew people who knew who you were. Perhaps you can try talking to them to find out about who you were in the past."

PRO: I could find out about my past.

CON: If all of them were as infuriating and cryptic as Max, then I would get no further in knowing my past self than if I never spoke to them at all.

PRO: Supposedly the Gallagher Girls were becoming less hostile towards the Blackthorne Boys.

CON: I didn't want to break the camaraderie since they were only hostile to the Blackthorne Boys on my behalf to begin with.

PRO: Max wasn't hard to track down because he had an uncanny way of finding me no matter where I was.

CON: I wasn't ready.

"Hiding in plain sight isn't really your style," Max commented as he slid into the seat across the table in front of me, with a History of Espionage in his hands. Absently, he opened the book, flipping through the pages, pretending to be interested in the words, but his eyes weren't really focused on the pages.

"You can stop pretending to read," I commented, as I scribbled the last answer to my Countries of the World homework. There were a few sheets of my CoveOps report sprawled over the table, which I snatched away from Max's prying eyes.

"Okay," Max announced, "I'm here because I'm bored and teasing you entertains me. At least it used to, back when you actually reacted."

"Were we close friends?"

"The best," Max replied without a moment of hesitation, giving no indication that he was confused or caught off guard by my sudden question, so I took the chance to get more information out of him.

"How long was I at Blackthorne?"

"Five years. You disappeared without a goodbye when you were ten."

"Why was I at Blackthorne, an all boy's school?"

"I don't know, you tell me. I think you're the only one who really knows that answer. Well, you and whoever put you there in the first place."

"Are you mad at me?"

"For what? Disappearing without a trace? Your memory loss so that you can't give me any explanations? Being a shell of your former self? Yes to all of the above, _Bethany_." Contempt was ever present in his voice and I couldn't help but wincing at his tone of voice.

"You never called me Bethany. In my head, you've always called me Beth. But I guess I deserve it," I whispered, a tear sliding down my cheek, which I hastily wiped away, "No, I deserve it."

"Beth, you know I didn't mean any of that," Max said, his eyes downcasted towards the table, "Now that I've seen you alive and safe can I only truly be mad at you for leaving without feeling guilty."

"I didn't have a choice," I whispered, my mind reeling from an image of a silhouette dragging my limp form as I used the last dredges of my strength to fight back, "I didn't have a choice."

"What?"

"I didn't have a choice," I repeated.

"What are you talking about Beth? Elaborate." At this point, Max had stood up from his seat and made his way to stand besides me, where he placed his hands on my shoulders to steady me.

"I didn't have a choice. I didn't have a choice," I chanted, my words rushed out as I felt the pain in the back of my head increase. My head reached to cradle the back of my head as tears fell.

"Beth? Beth?"

That was the last thing I heard before I was pulled under.

* * *

 **A/N: Hi guys!**

 **Thank you to my anonymous reviewers; they mean the world to me!**

 **To clarify, yes Amy is Princess Amirah from United We Spy, except now she's a junior in this story and Cammie's crew is already out in the field being the kickass spies that I know they are.**

 **Reappearance of some old characters in this story because I love them too much to part with them, so I have to somehow incorporate them even if this story does center around an OC.**

 **Another note: I don't actually have a regular update schedule; it depends on how much I get done writing and if I feel I have reached a good stopping point in my story, but this idea has been in my head ever since I reread the series in its entirety, so I have an idea of the endgame.**

 **Thank you for reading and let me know what you think! Until next time!**

 **-MM**


	3. Chapter 3

" _You have to get rid of those two. He's getting too attached to them. Attachments means that his true potential as a Circle member will never be achieved. Don't forget that we agreed on him being the next Circle leader."_

" _They're only children."_

" _Well you certainly haven't treated her like one, have you? Already teaching her combat skills, how to assemble and load a gun, and target shooting."_

" _After she was able to kill Matthew Morgan in cold blood despite his kindness towards her, I was able to see more potential in her than in him. You claim that he is forming attachments, yet she is too, but is still able to school her emotions to complete the mission. Those are the true qualities that a Circle leader needs."_

" _What are you insinuating?"_

" _Let both of them be trained to become the next Circle leader. The superior one will ultimately prevail and the other will become the right hand man. And how can you be so cruel to suggestion the elimination of your own child?"_

" _He is weak. His heart is too soft for his own good. Even if I do not get rid of him now, he will be terminated before he even reaches his teen years. Besides, his death will give his brother a little lesson on what happens if one gets too attached to people in this line of business. And right now it seems to me that you are getting a little too attached to these children, aren't you?"_

" _No, of course not. Do whatever you want. I don't know anything about this."_

"Look what you've done," I heard Amy hissing at someone, presumably Max, "You pushed her too far and now she broke down. It's all your fault."

"I didn't mean to," that was definitely Max's voice said, "I tried to stop her, but she was too far gone to listen to anything I was saying. Besides, she was the one who kept asking me questions about the past, and I only answered honestly!"

"Of course, you're still that same arrogant-"

"That's enough," I managed to croak out, finally mustering enough strength to crack open my eyelids. I managed to prop myself up with one elbow, with Amy immediately rushing to my aid and lifting me into a sitting position. Wordlessly, she handed me a glass of water, silently watching me down the glass of water before returning it to the white stand.

"What did the doctors say this time?" I prompted. The worry in Amy's eyes gave it all away that it had been serious this time.

"You haven't been eating regularly. Your blood pressure is low and you're lacking essential nutrition. You haven't been getting enough sleep and your brain activity isn't normal."

"Brain activity not normal?" I repeated, "In what way? Like...I'm remembering things?"

"Well, are you?" Max questioned, "I think you're the only one who can answer that." Immediately, Amy turned to shoot him a dirty look which Max promptly ignored.

"It wasn't anything of importance," I lied, not wanting to worry Amy. There had been a lot of rumors going around about the Circle at Gallagher, and supposedly CIA had already eliminated all of the top Circle members a few years back. Did they eliminate the children that was bound to take over the Circle too? Or had they missed them and the Circle was alive and well? And why was I aware of that conversation? Perhaps, it was just a figment of my imagination and not an actual memory?

Max shot me an indecipherable look, but he didn't press the matter further. Instead, he wordlessly left the room, leaving Amy to question me about what Max did to me. I denied all of her accusations about Max pressuring me to remember, simply telling her that it had been my fault, but Amy didn't look convinced.

"I know you're worried, but don't worry about me. I'm fine," I stated, hating seeing the worried look on Amy's face every time I woke up in the infirmary or from a nightmare.

"How can I not? You forget that you were the first girl to treat me normally after the Circle tried to take my life. You were the first person to give me looks of sympathy or even treat me like I was someone to be protected. To you, I was just Amy and not Princess Amirah. The least I can do is return the favor," Amy babbled.

"Well I didn't exactly have any memories," I stated wryly. To my surprise, Amy laughed, tears sliding down her cheeks as she wrapped her arms around my shoulders. I returned her embrace, leaning my head against her shoulder as hers rested on top of my head.

"Thank you for being here for me," I whispered after a few moments of silence.

"You better not leave me," Amy said sternly, "You can always come to me instead of disappearing off to who knows where, you know."

For the first time in a long time, a genuine smile appeared on my face.

"I know. Thank you."

* * *

When Amy and I arrived for CoveOps class the following day, we were taken aback by the number of missing classmates, both Blackthorne Boys and Gallagher Girls alike. Thirty seconds after we arrived, Mr. Soloman walked into the room, looking unfazed by the lack of numbers. Amy and I exchanged glances with Nicole and Lily, who merely gave us confused shrugs.

"We're going to have a CoveOps assignment today; follow me," Mr. Soloman simply said before heading towards the door once more.

"Where's the rest of our classmates?" Em piped up.

Mr. Soloman halted his movements for twenty seconds, craning his head back to give us a cryptic smile, "You'll see."

I was the first to get up from my seat, followed closely behind by Amy and followed Mr. Soloman's backside. From behind me, the scraping of the wooden chairs against the pavement indicated that the rest of my classmates followed. Cole and Lucas quickly caught up to me, falling into step besides me as we meandered through Gallagher Academy, heading straight for the front entrance.

"You wouldn't happen to know where Max has gone off to, do you?" Lucas asked. At the front of the gates, a van was already there, its engine purring idily as it waited for us to get in. Mr. Soloman gestured for us to get in. One by one, we piled in, sitting side by side, squeezing in tightly so that everyone could fight. Unfortunately that meant my entire body was pressed against Cole, as Amy squirmed to my left in an attempt to make more room for Em.

Mr. Soloman was the last to climb in, whispering something to the driver before the driver responded with a curt nod and began driving. Whispers began to float in the van, speculating what the assignment entailed, but Mr. Soloman retained his poker face and sealed lips, despite clearly hearing all of us.

"So?" Lucas prompted, reminding me of his unanswered question.

"I don't. What makes you think I would know his whereabouts?"

"He always seems to be with you," Cole pointed out, "So we assumed that you would know."

I frowned. "Max is always the one to find me, not the other way around. And it's not like he tells me anything important. All he does is try to annoy me or throw offhand jabs at me."

"Perhaps you should try to understand why Max is acting like that," Lucas said, leaning over Cole to remove the distance between us, "I haven't seen Max act like this since he was ten. One guess as to who made him his old self again."

"I-" I began, but was harshly cut off by the sudden stop of the van, causing all of us to slide leftwards.

"We're here," Mr. Soloman stated, "Your classmates are scattered around in Roseville and your assignment today is to tail them and find out where their final destination is. Don't get caught."

"But," Em protested, "They already know what we look like, so wouldn't it be easy for them to recognize that we're tailing them?"

Mr. Soloman merely shrugged. "In the field, you don't always get the advantage of being an unfamiliar face, so figure it out. Pair up and head out. Relay to me by comms if you have completed your target. You have until 20:00."

I turned towards Amy to become partners, but Cole beat me to the punch by grabbing my arm and dragging me out of the van, leaving Amy to be paired up with Lucas.

"Why did you partner up with me?" I hissed to Cole as we briskly walked away from the Gallagher van as quickly as possible.

"You pairing up with Amy would be too predictable just like if I paired up with Lucas. I don't plan on failing my first assignment at Gallagher," Cole replied, "Come on, we got some people to spy on." Logically, what Cole said made sense, but I couldn't felt but feel a hint of annoyance for being separated from Amy. For as long as I had been at Gallagher, Amy had always been my partner for everything ranging from CoveOp assignments, P&E sparring partner, to dance partner in Culture and Assimilation, but I supposed it was time to learn how to work with other people.

"Wait, give me your hat and your button up shirt," I demanded, holding out my hand expectantly. Cole shot me a confused look, but complied with my orders, taking off his baseball cap and placed it in my outstretched hands. Cole ran a hand through his mussed up hair, while I gathered my dark brown hair and tucked it neatly underneath the baseball cap. Cole shrugged off his button up shirt, leaving him in only a white t-shirt and I pulled it over my shirt, leaving all of the buttons open. The tail end of his shirt fell just past the hem of my shorts.

"Now that makes me look more visible," Cole stated as he began walking towards the crowd in town square.

"You're less noticeable without your trademark baseball cap," I pointed out, as I dragged Cole towards a cotton candy stand. I bought two, one for each of us, handing one to Cole, but he refused to take it.

"We have to blend in," I said, shoving the cotton candy towards Cole. Reluctantly, he took it, and ate it in tiny pieces at a time. I looped my arm through Cole's, playing up our unspoken disguise as girlfriend/boyfriend who were out on a date on a sunny Thursday afternoon.

For the next thirty minutes, we weaved through the streets of Roseville. At one point, we stopped by a CVS, coming out with sunglasses to make Cole less noticeable. Once, I brushed past Nicole, but I didn't spare a single glance her way and neither did she, as we continued on to our own separate ways. Occasionally, Cole and I would make small talk to play up our disguises, all while keeping an eye out for familiar faces.

I felt Cole tugging at the bottom of my shirt and I subtly followed his line of sight to a brown haired boy with his hands tucked in his pockets, smiling down at a girl with auburn colored hair next to the fountain. Although I couldn't see the girl's face, I recognized the familiar way she placed a hand on her hip, cocking her head to the right side as she continued to flirt with the civilian boy. A wig. Too bad Calie mentioned too many times how she envied Gina's red hair.

Calie reached into the pocket of her jean shorts, pulling out a phone. She tossed an apologetic smile to the civilian boy, who was still grinning like he had hit jackpot, and turned away, pressing the phone to her ear.

Cole nudged me, gesturing further down the road where there was a boy standing with his back facing to us, with a phone pressed against his ear. He was leaning on the post outside of the movie theater, eyeing the people entered into the theater as he spoke. Calie and the mystery boy hung up at the same time and Cole and I exchanged glances. Out of the corner of my eye, I watch Calie say something to the civilian boy before breaking away from him, taking the long way to get to the movie theater. Still standing outside of the movie theater, her partner shuffled his feet against the ground, his hands tucked into the pockets of his khaki shorts, brilliantly playing the part of an anxious boyfriend waiting for his date to show.

"I'm going after her," Cole whispered into my ear, before giving me a brief kiss on the cheek and following after her. To any outsider, it would seem like he had whispered a good-bye to his girlfriend. Although I didn't want to be his partner at first, I had to admit that he was good.

I inched my way towards the movie theater, stopping every so often to pull out my phone to take pictures of random things and answer my "text" messages. At one point, I made conversation with a group of civilian girls waiting outside of the theater, which I learned that they had a friend named Bianca who was always running late and that they were getting antsy waiting for her to show.

Two minutes before it was two forty five, Kathy offered me the extra ticket, stating that it would go to waste since Bianca hadn't showed up. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Calie join the Blackthorne Boy, who I have yet to establish the identity of, and made their way towards the entrance of the theater. I nodded, thanking the girls profusely for the extra ticket and entered the theater, but not before flashing Cole a "I'm okay," signal. After handing the ticket to the guy at the booth, I shot a warm smile to the girls and told them that I needed to go to the bathroom. They nodded, promising me that they would save me a seat while they headed to the room. I headed in the opposite direction, slipping into room that was showing a horror film. I spotted Calie on the other side of the theater, making her way through the row of seats, with the guy right behind her. I intercepted her in the aisle, accidently bumping into her, taking the chance to swipe the piece of paper from out of her back pocket. I muttered an apology before continuing my way up the stairs, while they went down and slipped out through the backdoor. Never once did the pair turn to look at me.

I never ended up joining the girls at the theater; instead, I left the movie theater and found Cole in the ice cream shop two buildings down, munching on a vanilla sundae. I slid into the seat in front of him, holding up the folded piece of paper between two fingers, as a show of victory.

Cole pressed the button on his comms unit, murmuring, "Calie and Brent, destination: George's Pizzeria." It was no wonder that they had been wasting their time in the vicinity, so that they could head straight to the Pizzeria which was located right across the theater when it was time.

In my comms, I heard Mr. Soloman relaying the news that Calie and Brent, that was the guy's name, had been compromised, earning a gasp of surprise from Calie.

"How betrayed would she feel if she knew her roommate was the one who busted her?" Cole asked, with a teasing smile playing on her lips.

"What she doesn't know won't hurt her," I quipped, getting up to toss Cole's trash away, "The day is still early. We still have an assignment to finish."

Cole and I found ourselves wandering through the park, spotting Em and Nicole tailing two Blackthorne Boys. All throughout the day, Mr. Soloman kept us updated on who had been compromised and although we had a lead in the beginning, it seemed that we were becoming evenly matched. By the time evening fell, we were down to two teams on each side.

"Technically we fail if we don't find the other two teams even if we don't get spotted," I stated nonchalantly, right before Mr. Soloman's voice came over the comms again to inform us that Justin and Jenny were compromised, right before following up with notifying us that Amy and Lucas were compromised as well.

"That means Max and Angela got them," Cole whispered to me as we took refuge in Starbucks. Cole absently went up to the register to order as I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket.

 _Near the museum. Good luck!_ Amy.

I relayed the message to Cole, who came bearing with two drinks in hand. He handed me a matcha green tea latte and I smiled at the fact that he still remembered that I didn't drink coffee.

"What if her phone was compromised by Max and Angela? Angela knows her well enough to text like her. It could be a trap," Cole stated, taking a sip of his latte. I glanced out of the window, noting the darkening sky.

"We have less than two hours, and we don't have any other leads. Either we take the risk or we wander around stupidly looking for them."

Cole and I successfully slipped into the museum right before closing time. We wordlessly split off, with him taking the stairs and I wandered from exhibit to exhibit, ducking out of sight of the museum workers, lest they tried to kick me out of the museum. The remaining stragglers were leaving one by one, until it was just me left and workers who were ready to close.

"Angela, you've been compromised," Mr. Soloman's voice came over the comms, "Forty five minutes left."

Only Angela? That meant Max was still out there somewhere, possibly not even in the museum, but if Angela was here, then it was likely that their final destination was nearby. I had to regroup with Cole and figure out our next move.

I ducked behind another glass exhibit as I saw the museum employees leaving, shutting off the lights, drenching me in darkness and locking the door, leaving me in silence. I heard the slightest sounds of footsteps near the maintenance room, and headed that way, minimizing the sound of my footsteps as much as possible just in case it wasn't Cole.

"I got bad news." I halted to my tracks and pressed myself against the wall as I listened to the hush whispers around the corner.

"You always have bad news." That was Max's voice.

"The Circle is active again." Zach's voice?

"But I thought that-" Max.

"That the CIA took care of the remaining Circle leaders? That's what we thought too, but we were wrong. There was another branch we weren't aware of…"

"What are they after this time? Are they aiming to finish what they started?"

"We don't know. Cammie and I didn't just come back to Gallagher for a social visit, you know. We have a hunch that they might be after someone at Gallagher again."

"Princess Amirah?"

"Possibly considering their failed assassination on her last time. At this point, we're still looking for an agent to infiltrate the Circle's ranks. After Mr. Soloman and I had been compromised, we don't have anymore informants from the inside."

"I see. I know what I have to do," Max stated flatly, "After all, I'm the most suitable candidate, right?"

"You're not going," Zach said harshly, "I'm only informing you because I think the Circle's target might be you. So be careful."

"Then that's the perfect chance for me to be your informant," Max argued, "You need an inside man and I can get an in."

"This isn't a joke, Max. We almost died trying to get you out the first time and now you want to go back?" Zach hissed, "Have you forgotten how broken you were? If it wasn't for Bethany, you would be a walking skeleton."

Instinctively, I jerked backwards at the mention of my name, accidentally elbowing the vase next to me. My eyes widened as I watched the vase fall to the ground, landing with a thud on the carpet, immediately alerting Max and Zach of my presence. On instinct, I turned to run, but barely a minute after I broke out into a run, I felt a body tackle me to the ground. I grunted under their weight, as we both fell to the ground, the baseball cap falling off of my head, revealing my dark brown locks.

"Beth?"

* * *

 **A/N: Hello again, guys!**

 **I hope you enjoyed my rendition of the original CoveOps assignment, because I really enjoyed writing that part. I realized that I haven't focused much on the side characters in the last two chapters, which was part of the reason why I refrained from letting Amy be Beth's partner, so I hope you guys enjoyed getting to know the other characters a little bit more. Let me know what you think!**

 **Thank you to my readers and anonymous reviews; you guys are awesome! As for speculation of the relationship of my fictional characters to any canon characters, it'll be a secret for now. :)**

 **And the plot thickens! What did you think about Zach and Max's conversation/their interactions? Any guesses to why Max was even involved in the Circle in the first place?**

 **Thank you! See you next time!**

 **-MM**


	4. Chapter 4

"What are you doing here?" Max questioned, scrambling to get off of me. I stared at him with wide eyes as he extended a hand outward. Hesitantly, I reached out to take his hand and Max pulled me up from the ground.

"Max, destination: museum exhibit B," a voice said from behind him. Max immediately whirled around to see a smirking Cole emerge from the shadows. Mr. Soloman's voice came over the comms, informing us that Max had been made and giving us instructions to head back to Gallagher.

"What a traitor," Max commented, reaching forward to give Cole a friendly fist bump.

"Not my fault you were too infatuated in Bethany too notice. Besides, I could hear you chasing after her from the second floor." I bent down, picking up Cole's baseball cap from the ground and tossing it to him. He easily caught, tipping his hat as a show of thanks before sliding his trademark cap back on his head.

"Whatever, let's go back." Max lead the way to the emergency exit, with Cole falling in step besides me, nudging me and snickering at the fact that Max didn't deny Cole's accusation. It was only when we stepped out into the cool night did I realize that Zach had been nowhere to been seen and Max didn't seem to notice or care.

The entire ride back to Gallagher had been silent.

The three of us were the last to slip into the CoveOps classroom, where the rest of our classmates were waiting. Mr. Soloman was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed and eyes closed, giving an impression that he was asleep, but any operative knew better than that. As if on cue, Mr. Soloman opened his eyes the moment we took our respective seats.

"Now, I would say good job, but it wasn't good enough," Mr. Soloman drawled, "Karen, you crossed paths with Lucas at least three times, but didn't notice him on your tail. Calie, Bethany bumped into you and managed to steal the location off of you and you never suspected a thing. Parker, you got caught in plain sight, in the middle of an empty street. James, you were too obvious in making eye contact with Connor. Remember that there are eyes everywhere all all times. And Max, you ran after Bethany without caring if she had back up or not.

"Now, the ones that were being tailed weren't actually aware that there would be a team tailing them, but they figured it out quickly enough. As for the tailing team, patience is key. Em, you were being too impatient which was why you exposed yourself. And have you thought that you might go from tailing to being tailed, Amy, Lucas?

"Be observant. Be patient. And use all of your knowledge to your advantage."

* * *

"Soloman is disappointed in us," Angela commented as Calie was sprawled out on her bed reading a magazine and Amy and I were reviewing our notes for our upcoming COW test.

"We weren't exactly exemplary out there today," Amy replied, "But for once, the Blackthorne Boys were on the same level we were."

"He's been pushing us further ever since the Blackthorne Boys arrived. Either he doesn't want to lose face at our mediocre performance or he's preparing us for something," Calie put in, "Perhaps an examination."

"We're sublevel two now, it's natural that he would expect more out of us," I said, "There's nothing out of the ordinary about that."

"Beth is right," Calie announced, tossing her magazine on the bed and sitting upright, "Which is why we have to work twice as hard now. Let's hit the P&E barn."

Despite being exhausted from a whole day of tailing our classmates, none of protested against Calie's suggestion. Instead, we dragged ourselves out of bed and got dressed in work out clothes, heading to the P&E barn, ignoring the giggles coming from the other girls.

For the first time in a long time, I didn't have any nightmares. Instead, my mind kept replaying the conversation I had overheard earlier. Over and over again.

* * *

For the first time since the Blackthorne Boys came to Gallagher, I was the one who sought out Max and not the other way around. Despite asking every Blackthorne Boy I ran into on my search, including his closest friends Lucas and Justin, it took me an hour to finally track him down in the P&E barn.

It was uncharacteristic of Max to blatantly skip class, especially CoveOps, since he reprimanded me for missing class, but no one questioned his absence like they had long stopped questioning mine.

Max either didn't bother to acknowledge my presence or wasn't aware as his eyes remained riveted on the punching bag, continuously striking it. Sweat dripped down his forehead, but Max only spared ten seconds to wipe it off with the towel that was draped around his neck before continuing.

I plopped myself down in the corner of the barn, not about the amount of stains that were going to get onto my newly issued skirt. For the next thirty minutes, I alternated between staring at my surroundings, and ingraining it into my memory even though I had already done so long ago, and watching Max hit the punching bag. At one point, I got bored and pulled out a book to read, but couldn't focus on the content because my mind still kept drifting to the conversation I overheard last night.

"What are you doing here?" My head jerked up to see Max standing before me, leaning down slightly so he could make eye contact with me. Immediately, I shut my book and scrambled to my feet, brushing the back of my skirt.

"I want to talk to you," I declared, looking at Max in the eye to gauge his reaction, but he gave no outward expression.

"Well I don't," Max replied curtly, already turning away. I reached out, grabbing his left arm, halting his movements.

"Then don't, just listen to me," I pleaded, "I don't know exactly what the context of what Zach was saying to you last night, but don't go join the Circle no matter what. I don't want to see you get hurt."

Max turned around, shrugging off my grip on his arm. Instead, he grabbed my wrist and leaned closer to me so that our noses almost brushed.

"I think it's ironic that you used to know everything about me when we were younger and now you didn't even remember my name when we first met. I was already hurt and broken a long time before you met me and somehow you managed to piece me back together, but when you left?" Max began, his voice trembling, "Everything fell apart. It's too late to fix me again."

"No," I protested, "You still had Lucas, Justin, Cole, Zach, and everyone else at Blackthorne."

"They might be my brothers in name," Max whispered, "But none of them can replace my blood related brother. Or you."

"So what are you going to do?" I questioned, my voice unsteady, "Offer yourself up to the Circle so you can feel a sense of purpose in your life? You have a purpose, right here at Gallagher!"

"You overheard our conversation last night, then you must have heard that they were after Princess Amirah," Max retorted, his voice stern, "I'm trying to protect your friend, why can't you see that?"

"I don't want you to do that if it means that you're sending yourself into a suicide mission!" I exclaimed, "We can still protect Amy without joining the Circle. Amy wouldn't want you to do that and I don't either."

"Why do you even care? In your current state, all I am is a mere stranger to you, so I don't understand why you care."

"I-"

"Bethany, stop trying to act like I mean something to you when I clearly don't. For all I know if I didn't constantly pester you, you would never know who I am, much less even care if I'm gone."

"Bullshit. Just because I don't remember, doesn't mean I don't care!"

Max chuckled darkly, "That's funny because even when you did remember, you didn't care." With that, Max released his grip on me and increased the distance between us, turning around and heading straight for the exit. I didn't call out his name; I didn't try to go after him; instead, I stared at his backside until he was out of sight.

I sank back down onto the ground, wrapping my arms around my knees and let the unwanted tears stream down my face.

I lost track of time. I don't know how long I was crying, but even when my tears dried up, all I could see was Max's shadow walking away from me, but I couldn't tear my eyes away from the exit of the P&E barn even though the image replayed in my head over and over again. Now I knew what Max felt when he watched me walk away all those years ago: devastated, lonely, and vulnerable.

 _I huddled in the dark, with my arms wrapped around Marcus, who was shivering in his sleep. He was muttering incoherent things, shifting every so often and attempted to push me off at one point, but I held onto him tightly._

 _In the tunnels, it was hard to tell time, but I figured it was the middle of the night because I felt drowsy. I drifted in and out of sleep, not daring to fall into a deep sleep lest Marcus' condition deteriorated. But eventually, darkness won._

 _The brightness of the flashlight jerked me awake. For a split second, my hopes were raised that someone had come to rescue us, but upon seeing the familiar features of the figure, all of my wishful thinking went out the door._

 _Marcus cracked an eye open, and drowsily registered the new presence, "Dad?"_

" _You can call me that if you want, but I only have one son and it's not you," the man spoke, his voice low and menacing, "Look at you, only three days in the tunnels and you're already on the verge of death."_

" _Let him go," I hissed, my voice raspy from rationing the minimal amount of food given to us. It was clear that Marcus' father only intended on one of us making it out of this place alive, but I was adamant in stretching out our supplies for as long as possible. It would had been so easy to leave Marcus behind, to escape by myself, but I couldn't find it in myself to betray Max like that, even if I was capable of killing in cold blood. "Max won't forgive you if he finds out."_

" _He doesn't need to know and you won't be around to tell him," Marcus' father responded nonchalantly._

" _Why are you doing this?"_

" _His attachments with the two of you have made him weak. Weakness is not acceptable, which is why Marcus must die. You, on the other hand, will become a great asset if cut your bonds with them, so just give it up. He won't last another day. Imagine how good it would feel if your stomach was constantly growling."_

" _How could you do this to your own son? He's only a child" I spat, "You're a heartless son of a bitch."_

" _Yeah, well you would know all about being one, wouldn't you? It takes one to get to know one. Anyways, I will be back again. Hopefully by then you will have come to your senses." With that, we were surrounded by darkness once more, with only a faint spot of light, growing further and further away from us._

" _Marcus," I called, shaking his shoulder to wake up once more. With heavy effort, Marcus managed to respond with a hmm, but his eyes remained closed._

" _Come on, you have to get up. We can follow him to the exits." Without waiting for his reply, I draped one of his arms around my shoulders and stood up, steadying myself with the wall, but Marcus' weight dragged me back down the ground._

" _I can't," Marcus croaked, "You go get help and come back for me."_

" _What? I can't leave you here. What if something happens?"_

" _It's our only chance. At this rate, both of us will die here," Marcus murmured, "I don't have enough strength to even move. You should hurry, before you lose Dad's trail." Marcus fell unconscious again and I pressed a hand to his forehead, recoiling at how much he was burning up. I scrambled in the dark, grabbing some of the food rations and water before stumbling around in the dark, following the dim light. With one last worried look in Marcus' direction, I powered forward, hurrying to attempt to catch up to Marcus' father._

 _A mere five minutes later, the light disappeared and I was plunged into the darkness once more, with no idea on how to get back or even where to go, so I decided to continue forward, feeling up the walls as a guide through the tunnels. Twice, I tripped over loose pebbles lying on the dirt and landed face first onto the ground, but I picked myself up and trudged forward. Once, I ran into the wall because I didn't realize there was a turn. After that incident, I made sure to feel all the walls around me, so I was aware of when I reached a turning point._

 _I reached a dead end. At first I didn't want to believe it, but after feeling all the walls around me, I confirmed that fact and began going back towards the path I came from, intent on find another exit, since the tunnels must have split off somewhere._

 _I kept going. When I was tired, I would stop to rest. When I was hungry, I ate sparingly, lest my already measly supplies would run out before I could find my way out. When I was thirsty, I only wet my tongue, not daring to even take a sip to conserve as much water as possible. When I felt like giving up, I reminded myself of the eight year old boy who didn't have much time left and was counting on me to save him._

 _The Blackthorne tunnels lived up to its name. Even Blackthorne alumni and faculty didn't know their way around the tunnels and I was almost certain Marcus' father marked the path, so he wouldn't get lost in the tunnels, but I couldn't see the markings. There were rumors floating around that once a group of Blackthorne Boys tried to play hide and seek in the woods, and one of them found the lever to the tunnels, which led him to enter the tunnels in search of a hiding spot. Supposedly, his curiosity led him to explore the tunnels and he ended up so deep within the tunnels that no one was able to find him, not even his body. Whether the rumors were true or just a story to scare us away from the tunnels, they weren't lying about how much of a maze this tunnel was._

 _Sleep, eat, searching for the way out, rinse and repeat. The more time that passed, the less confidence I had, but I didn't give up, for the less than one percent chance that I could save Marcus. For the less than one percent chance that we could both see Max again._

 _Delirium caught up to me. Thoughts crossed my mind of how I would had been better off if I taken Marcus' father's advice and fended only for myself, but I always caught myself before I was too far gone. I dragged myself around the tunnels, stumbling around in the dark, always imagining that I saw the exit. Running into the hard, cold wall knocked me out of my stupor, but every time I let my mind wander, I would start seeing things again._

 _In the cold tunnels, I felt like my body was on fire. Sweat dripped down my face and all over my body, reducing the already too low water amount in my body. My body cracked under pressure and I drank the remaining contents in the water bottle in one go. I could hardly recall the instance, but when I was conscious again, the empty bottle lying on the ground was a good enough indication of what exactly had happened._

 _I was running out time. Deep down in my heart, it was likely that Marcus' time was already up, but I refused to convince myself of that, lest I lose my last motivation to make it out alive. With my last dredges of strength, I pushed forward, heading down another pathway, desperately hoping that it was the right one. If not, it was most likely the last thing I would ever do._

 _A light. I blinked twice and even pinched myself just to make sure I wasn't dreaming or delusional. When my sight focused again, the light was still there, but rapidly growing smaller in the distance. I scrambled to my feet, breaking out into a quick hobble after the light. There was no way in hell I was going to let the light disappear on me again._

 _The more I kept going, the more I was convinced that this wasn't a product of my delusional mind because I would had ran into a dead end by now. I could had almost cried when I saw the light grow bigger, rather than smaller, and I realized that it was the exit to the tunnel._

 _I halted my movements when I heard a voice speak, "What's the situation?"_

" _Marcus is dead. Bethany is nowhere to be found," Marcus' father replied evenly, with no remorse in his voice._

 _I was too late. Marcus was dead._

" _Missing?" the woman questioned._

" _I assumed she wandered off to find the exit, so Bethany is probably dead in some other part of the tunnel."_

" _She's an asset; I don't understand why you insisted that she be put in the tunnel too."_

" _She's no asset if she's dead. If I didn't put her in there too, she would had found some way to find Max again and that defeats the entire purpose of this plan."_

" _How did Max take the news of their disappearance?"_

" _All according to plan." The two silhouettes grew smaller into the distance as they continued to chat about something, but my mind wasn't focused on their conversation. Once they were out of my sight, I dragged myself to the entrance, but barely made it two feet out of the tunnel when I collapsed face first into the ground out of exhaustion. Sleep had never felt so good._

"Miss?" I blinked twice rapidly before raising an arm to shield myself from the light that was pointed straight at me. The guy slowly lowered his flashlight and I did the same with my arm, my eyes already taking in my surroundings.

Roseville town square. The fountain. The grocery store to my right and the pharmacy across the street. The local bank right behind me. And a lone policeman looking at me expectantly, waiting for an explanation.

"Sorry," I said, not knowing what else to say since I had no recollection of how I got here. The last thing I could remember was falling asleep in the P&E barn, so either someone deliberately dropped me off here which was less likely since I was on my own two feet, or I walked in here my sleep. That reasoning scared me because that meant my subconsciousness knew something that I didn't.

"It's past curfew, what are you doing out here?" the policeman stated gruffly, "You're a minor, so I'm going to have to call your parents."

My eyes widened in alarm, "No, you can't!"

"Sorry kid, I don't care what explanation you have: sneaking out to see a boyfriend, sneaking out to go to a party or club, or whatever you kids do nowadays. The rules are the rules."

"But my parents are dead," I stated, faking the tremble in my voice, "I'm an orphan. My uncle lives around here somewhere; I was just trying to find his house."

"What's the address? I will take you there."

"Uhm yeah about that," I started, rubbing the back of my neck flashing the policeman a sheepish smile, "I lost the paper with the address on it, so I was kinda hoping I could wait until daylight and walk around Roseville square and hope I run into him."

"Cell phone?"

"Don't have one," I replied, "I swear, I'm not breaking the curfew on purpose. I didn't even know there was a curfew…" I immediately shut my mouth upon seeing the glare from the policeman.

"How many lies are you going to make up? No matter what you say, you're either going to be coming to the station with me or we can do this the easy way and let your parents pick you up. What's it going to be, kid?"

I was running out of options. I contemplated disabling the policeman but that was too risky since he already saw my face and would possibly try to track me down to press assault charges. Telling him I was from Gallagher Academy was out of the cards because then everyone would know that I somehow snuck out and I wasn't ready for a Spanish Inquisition. And going to the police station would only prolong the matter and not actually solve anything.

"I-" Thankfully, I was saved from bullshitting my way through another lie at the sound of someone calling my name. I turned around to see a tall guy with dark brown hair dressed in casual jeans and t-shirt heading towards us, with a plastic bag dangling in his hand.

"What's the matter officer?" the man spoke, making direct eye contact with the police officer.

"You know the girl? She's out past curfew and she claims that she's looking for her uncle, but she doesn't know where he lives. If you know her parents, make sure to tell them to raise their kid to not lie to the authorities."

"I don't appreciate your implication that my brother didn't raise her right. I'm her uncle, so I don't think you have any right to accuse her of lying now, do you? Come on, let's go." The man grabbed my arm, tugging me along, heading away from the officer who was opening and closing his mouth like he wanted to say something, but was too shocked to say anything. To play up my cover as a snotty teenager, I stuck my tongue out at the police officer, wearing a smug expression on my face as I turned to face the back of the man.

Once we were out of the line of sight of the police officer, the man halted his movements, turning to face me for the first time, cocking his head to the left giving off the "I'm waiting for an explanation" attitude.

"Thank you," I simply said, unsure of exactly what the man's motives were for keeping me out of trouble with the Roseville police.

The man chuckled lightly, "No questions?" A hint of amusement played on his lips as his eyes searched my face for a reaction.

"I've drawn my own conclusions already," I simply replied, not waiting to play his game. The man was definitely waiting for me to take the bait and ask him questions, which would lead to me slipping up and giving away crucial information. Friend or foe, I wasn't going to take any chances.

"As expected of a Gallagher Girl," the man commented, leaning back against the lamp post, "It baffles me how you were able to sneak out of the mansion without triggering any alarms. The last person who was able to do that was the infamous Cameron Morgan, but since then the mansion has been built without secret passageways to the outside."

"That's not any of your business," I replied evenly, "You can continue to sprout your nonsense, but you're not going to get any information out of me."

"Is it the nonsense or the truth, Bethany?"

The man knew my name. Either he had ties to Gallagher Academy, which was likely since he spoke so freely about it, then he was either part of the CIA or Interpol. Or he was a Circle member, who knew me before I lost my memories and had inside information about Gallagher, probably courtesy of Catherine Goode, who was notoriously known to be a Gallagher Girl who had turned evil. Even better, he was a double agent whose loyalties remain unclear.

"Let me guess, the Circle?"

The man had the audacity to laugh, "The Circle is dead."

"No," I began slowly, placing emphasis on every word, "They're not."

"Now you're just spouting nonsense."

"No I'm not. Ask your son, _Agent Townsend_." His name slipped out of my mouth like I had known who he was all along.

 _London. Gloomy, cloudy day. Twelve years old. On the skating rink, watching Joe Soloman fling himself off of the bridge and into the dark, murky waters below. The agent behind me, tossing his coffee cup as he tried to skate towards where the Baxters were, but refrain himself from getting too close. A woman in a red scarf skated to him, her coffee cup lying on the ice, its contents staining the pure whiteness of the rink._

 _Despite all of the chattering among the civilians around me of what had just transpired, I heard every word clearly between the two of them even though I was far away._

" _Townsend, the mission is a bust."_

" _No, it's not," the man in question responded to the woman, "He left a trace. Cameron."_

 _Townsend and the woman parted ways, with the woman heading off somewhere to her left, while Townsend skated back towards where he first was, behind me. The two of us made brief eye contact, before his eyes brushed past me, not sparing me anymore than the two second glance and onto the rest of the crowd, trying to spot the Circle members._

For the first time that night, Townsend's amusement was gone and his eyes hardened upon hearing my use of his name.

"How did you know my name?" Townsend demanded, his voice emanating coldness. I merely shrugged and pointed to myself.

"Spy," I replied nonchalantly. I suppose I could had told him the truth, that I met him before, but as more and more of my fragmented memory returned, I was almost scared of what I used to be, what I would had become if it wasn't for my memory loss.

Some things were meant to be forgotten.

"You are coming back to Gallagher with me," Townsend stated sternly. There wasn't a single word of protest as I let him lead me away, back to the mansion.

* * *

 **A/N: Hi guys!**

 **So I believe it was the first chapter in where Beth first mentioned how she "killed Max's brother" and now you finally get all of the details of it. And we're finally finding out more about Beth's past and who she used to be. Feel free to let me know your predictions because I'm really curious to see where you guys think this story is going. :)**

 **And Townsend makes an appearance! He was always one of my favorite characters so I'm excited to have an opportunity to incorporate him into the story and I hope that I will be able to add more canon characters into the story as I go because I want to bring them to life again!**

 **Let me know your thoughts, comments, predictions, critiques, and questions!**

 **Thank you guys for reading and until next time!**

 **-MM**


	5. Chapter 5

Much to my surprise, Professor Buckingham sent me back to my room upon seeing my return with Townsend besides me. They traded knowing glances, but I didn't see much more since Professor Buckingham pushed me towards the direction of the Grand Staircase and I had no choice but to head up to my room like I was instructed to do, while the two of them stared at me, gauging if I was far away enough to break out into hushed whispers.

I hadn't been pulled into Headmistress Morgan's office like I had expected. There was no questions, no answers, just a whole lot of hushed whispers that I was almost certain were about me. Did they find out something I didn't know?

In the end, my curiosity won out. Instead of going to my room like I was told to, I stalled in front of my room for five minutes before tiptoeing to the top of the Grand Staircase, peering over the rails to see if Professor Buckingham and Townsend were still there. To my relief, there was no one in sight, so I proceeded to climb the stairs slowly, minimizing the amount of noise I made.

Once I made it to the foot of the staircase, I darted to the nearest hallway, ducking behind one of the glass displays of Gillian Gallagher's armor and sword. Hesitantly, I poked my head out, peering into the darkness and detected no other movements or sounds. Cautiously, I slipped through the foyer slowly to the other side, where there was a fireplace tucked soundly in the corner. Reaching for the sixth stone from the right, I pushed it and the fireplace gave way, granting me an entrance into my favorite secret tunnel.

After realizing that I could overhear conversations from Headmistress Morgan's office in this tunnel, I vowed to myself that I wouldn't ever come to eavesdrop, but today I felt the need to break my self-imposed rule. If this was about me, then I had to know what they knew.

Townsend was currently in the middle of recounting his encounter with me in town when I reached the spot where I could hear their voices the best. Every so often, someone would cut in with a question, much to Townsend's annoyance if his change of tone when he answered their question was any indication. Eventually he revealed that I addressed him by name and mentioned that Zach was his son, earning a collective noise of surprise from everyone that was present.

"So she knows that we're related. That doesn't mean anything; it's not exactly a secret." Zach. I could recognize his voice anywhere after overhearing him and Max at the museum.

"She must be working for the Circle," Townsend insisted, "She must be using memory loss as a disguise and spying on us. The look she had in her eyes when she firmly stated that the Circle was alive...it sent chills down my spine. And I haven't felt that for a long time, not since I met Catherine Goode."

"Her memory loss isn't fake. We got her checked out by one of the most prestigious medical departments in the world and they've confirmed that she does suffer from memory loss. Besides, there's no faking the genuineness and sincerity that I see in her eyes. I may be old, but not senile. I know good when I see it, just like I saw in Zachary." Professor Buckingham. My eyes teared up slightly upon hearing her defend me so vigorously, even though I was under the impression that Professor Buckingham wasn't overly fond of me since I disappeared so much and it was always up to her to do damage control.

"The Circle's successor was supposed to be Max," Zach stated, "There's word floating around that the remnants of the Circle are banding together to finish what they started."

"Amirah?" Headmistress Morgan.

"And Max." Zach.

That hit the nail on the coffin. I had to prevent Max from going to the Circle. If everything my nightmare was in fact a memory, then Max's father was part of the Circle and he was cruel enough to leave two kids to die. If Max went back, I could only imagine how much hell he would have to pay for even breaking away from the Circle in the first place. If the nightmare was true, then Max was the designated successor to the Circle's leadership, but the unknown lady in the dream believed that I had potential too. They only needed one or the other. If they had me first, then the Circle would have no use for Max. And since I couldn't convince Max to back down, I had to make a move first.

I was going to get my memories back.

* * *

There was still a terse awkwardness between Max and I every time we were in the same room, but we actively ignored each other. When we were forced to speak to each other, it was in in short, clipped sentences. Everyone around us noticed the tension, but no one seemed to bring it up; instead, they did everything they could to diffuse some of the awkwardness. If it was any other time, I would had been miserable at losing someone I had grown to consider a friend, but my mind was too focused on how I was going to my memories back.

For the first time since they were prescribed to me, I pulled out the sleeping pills that I stashed away in one of my drawers and took them, hoping that I would have more dreams, but to no avail. Since the night in the P&E barn, I was back to having the same old nightmare, of my dream self screaming as an unknown silhouette was shot and crumpled to the ground.

I approached all the Blackthorne Boys, attempting to find more about myself when I was a child, but most of them claimed that I was just another student to them. They hadn't really gotten to know me in the years that I was at Blackthorne, since I always kept to myself and only spent time with Max and Marcus.

I finally got useful information when I approached Lucas.

"You didn't talk much Bethany," Lucas explained, setting his book down to pay full attention to the conversation, "Even when some of the boys would approach you out of curiosity, you would coldly brush them off. I think you only tolerated Cole, Justin, and I when Max was around."

"Did I ever say anything to you?"

"No, not really, but you would always give us this cold look, so we never stayed long. The only people you would ever talk to was Max and Marcus and when I asked Max once why you would only speak to him, he vaguely mentioned that the two of you had a mutual understanding for each other."

"Was there anything else?"

"Every summer and winter break, you would always disappear. Not even Max knew where you went and everyone knew that you didn't have any living family members. Sometimes you would come back early; other times, you would come back a couple days late. I only remember because Max would be worried every time you came back late and the times you came back late, well you were colder than usual," Lucas said, "Honestly, you should just go ask Max. He's the one who knows you the best."

"We don't have a mutual understanding anymore," I stated, unsure why I was sharing this information with Lucas, of all the people.

"I've noticed," Lucas commented wryly, "Whatever happened between the two of you, I'm sure is just a product of both of your stubbornness."

"Max is angry at me because I don't know him anymore."

"Max is angry at a lot of things, but mostly he's angry at himself. Angry because he wasn't there to protect you from whatever took your memories away."

"Don't worry. I'm going to get it back."

Regardless of the amount of promises I had broken in the past, this was one that I didn't intend to break. For Max's sake.

* * *

When forcing myself to sleep didn't work, I tried talking to Cameron, who seemed surprised at my sudden interest to speak to her. During our conversation, I spilled all of my feelings, making it seem like I wanted to get my memories back for the sake of myself, to fill the empty void that was persistent in making itself known. While Cameron was a good spy, I was a better liar, able to keep my heartbeat at its normal beat and my breathing pattern was the same.

I almost didn't want to remember what kind of training I went through to learn how to lie so efficiently or sneak out of a top notch security system or worse, how I used to be so cold-hearted. If I had heard that I was a cold-hearted bitch from one of the Blackthorne Boys, then maybe I would had brushed it off, but it was impossible to deny that was who I used to be when ten of them repeated the same sentiments.

Cameron gave me advice on how she regained some parts of her memories, going to familiar places, talking to people who had seen her, and most of all, just relaxing. She even admitted that she couldn't remember everything that had happened to her simply because she was too rash, too pushy, leaving her subconscious to lead her to the places she had been with no context.

"But if I don't push it, when am I ever going to get my memory back?" I questioned.

"It could be months. It could be years. It could be never. Don't push it Bethany, sometimes you're better off forgetting."

"Some things were meant to be forgotten," I finished her sentence for her, "But you, of all the people, should understand my need to remember."

"But why now? Why not when you first woke up in the infirmary two years ago?"

"I'm ready to face my past now." It was a flat out lie, but Cameron didn't need to know that. She could remain under the impression that I had a rough childhood, leading to me being abandoned at Blackthorne, where I learned the art of being an assassin and spy.

"What can I do to help you?" My lips curled up into a smile; Cameron played perfectly into my hand.

"Take me to town."

True to her word, Cameron snuck me out of the mansion with a couple of lies to the guards at the gate, and without mentioning it to anyone, not even when her mother stopped to question where she was going. I guess one of the advantages of being a full-fledged spy was that no one pressed for answers, assuming everything was under a need to know basis.

During the ride there, I contemplated my next move, whether or not to shrug Cameron off of my tail or let her tag along. Letting her tag along meant that I wasn't going to be daring enough to follow my hunch, out of fear of the slew of questions that was definitely going to come my way. On the other hand, shrugging Cameron off of my tail would mean that she would be tracking me down all throughout town, possibly with the help of other agents, so there was also no guarantee that I would even have enough time to follow my hunch.

I decided the honesty approach.

"Are you coming with me?"

"Of course I am," Cameron replied, in the tone that implied that it was a stupid question to even ask.

"I would prefer going alone," I automatically responded, "I can relax more when there isn't someone watching my every move."

"I'm already doing you a huge favor by sneaking you out of the mansion; I'm not letting you out of sight," Cameron countered, "My mother would have my head if you went missing and you're no stranger to disappearing."

"If you know that, then you should know that I don't need your help to sneak out of the mansion. I'm only indulging you so I don't get accused of another disappearing act. I don't appreciate another Townsend dragging me back to Gallagher," I retorted, my annoyance increasing at her insistence to follow me.

"I could turn back right now," Cameron threatened, a hard edge in her voice. Gone was the girl who wanted to do everything in her power to help, replaced by a seasoned spy. I should had known this wasn't going to be an easy battle to win.

"You could, but I will find a way myself. Either we do it on my terms, or you will face another disappearing act. No guarantees on when I return or if I ever return." Cameron bit the bottom of her lip; her grip tightening around the steering wheel making her knuckles turn white. I knew that she was thinking over my threat, which was a valid one because that was I exactly intended to do if Cameron didn't agree to my request. Knowing my history of disappearing, Cameron wasn't probably too keen on letting me escaping to town at an unknown time on an unknown day. At least today she was well aware of my whereabouts and my time of return.

"You just told me your plan so I already know what you're up to," Cameron replied evenly, the edge in her voice gone. I could tell that she already drawn the conclusion that she was fighting a losing battle, but still wanted to get the last word in.

"You may be the Chameleon because you're known for blending into the crowd. I'm the Ghost because I'm known for disappearing." With that parting line, I climbed out of the van and set off into the town square, immediately letting a sea of people surround me. Instinctively, I knew that Cameron wouldn't follow me.

Just to be safe, I wandered through all the same places that Cole and I went to during our last CoveOps assignment just to see if there was anyone on my tail. When I gathered that there was no one following me, I made a beeline to my original destination: the Roseville Bank. A tall man with a baseball cap was exiting the bank and I took advantage of the still opened door to slip into the bank. The draft from the A/C hit me in full force and I pulled my sweater around me tighter to shield off some of the cold.

As expected of a Thursday afternoon, the bank was almost empty with only two other people in line and only one person working behind the window. There was another woman perched on one of the armchairs, rummaging through the contents of her purse. I contemplated my next move; should I just approach the employee at the risk of looking completely stupid if my hunch wasn't right or sneak into the vault?

My concentration was broken when the lady on the armchair stood up, walking in my direction, grabbing my attention once more. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the purse sitting on the crook of her arm while her hand held a checkbook and her cell phone. I idly stood there, pretending to be playing on my phone while I watched her invade my comfort zone, bumping into me despite having plenty of space to step into the line. For a second I felt a piece of paper being tucked into the waistband of my jeans. The woman muttered her apologies before stepping into line.

A well played brush pass, but how did she know I was going to be here today? Better yet, who was she? A friend or a foe?

Angling myself so that I was out of the line of sight of the security cameras, I pulled out the folded paper, unfolding it to see only two words messily scrawled on it.

 _Bethany Circle._

Three possibilities ran through my mind as to why she handed me this slip of paper.

One, she was working for the CIA and was giving me this as a warning that the CIA knew about my past and to inform me that the CIA were watching my every move.

Two, she was working for the Circle and somehow this was a clue to whatever I was supposed to find.

Three, this was my real name, but the possibility seemed low since there weren't that many people with the last name of Circle. Even if this was true, then it meant she was someone from my past. And I couldn't ask her since she was keen on acting like we were complete strangers.

I took the chance and went up to the window, coming face to face with a bored banker. She looked at me expectantly, waiting for me to speak first.

"I have a box under the name of um...Bethany Circle," I said, while realizing that this was a stupid idea because I didn't have any identification that matched that name. Much to my surprise, the woman didn't ask for any identification and just gestured me to come inside. Once I was on the other side of the glass windows, I followed the woman down the long hallway and into a vault, full of metal boxes, locked away.

"Here, this is your box," the woman stated, pointing to one that was at my eye level, "I'll be outside when you're done." I was about to ask her about the code to the lockbox when I realized that I was the one who should know the code since I supposedly created it. I was saved from wondering how I was going to open the box when I felt the woman slip me a post it note before stepping outside.

Had the woman in the armchair gotten into line to inform the woman behind the glass windows that I was coming? There was no other explanation; they were working together. It shouldn't had been that easy to get into the vault, which meant that they were waiting for me to show up. They wanted me to find the contents of the box.

It was too late to turn back now since I came so far, so I began dialing the combination written on the post it note before ripping it into shreds, already having the combination ingrained into my memory. My box was light when I pulled it out and I almost feared that there was nothing in it when I saw a small syringe lying in the box. With a note attached to it. In my handwriting.

 _Since I know myself, I reckon that I will somehow find this box to get my memories back, so this note will serve as my last warning. Losing my memory is a way to escape, to break free of their control. Should future self choose to get the memories back, just know that there's no turning back after this. There are no more second chances to get a semblance of a normal life, but I suspect this note won't change my mind if I already went to the lengths to find the serum._

I didn't inject the serum right away. Instead, it sat in my pocket along with the note, making my thigh feel like it was burning. Thankfully, Cameron didn't ask any questions as she drove us back to the mansion and getting to the mansion with some believable lie that she fed to the guard.

Cameron was probably still pissed at my threats earlier, but I thanked her nonetheless because I had finally found what I needed, except I wasn't sure whether or not I wanted my memories back after reading the note.

PRO: I could get my memories back.

CON: My past self didn't think having those memories was a good idea.

PRO: I could save Max.

CON: The only way to save Max was at my expense.

PRO: It was the least I could do for Max after I let his brother die.

CON: It wasn't my fault. I was ten. I was helpless and weak. I...shouldn't even be alive.

CON: I shouldn't be making excuses.

CON: Without my memories, I'm...lost.

* * *

"Out with it," Angela demanded, shutting the textbook with more force than was necessary. Her elbows were propped onto the table as she leaned across the table until she was right in front of my face. Calie motioned to the onlookers to stop staring and grabbed Angela's arm, yanking her down back into her seat.

"With what?" I asked nonchalantly, flipping the page in my textbook.

"Something has been bothering you ever since the Blackthorne Boys came to Gallagher and I'm offended that you don't trust us enough to confide with us," Angela replied.

"Angela, you know that we can't-" Amy began, but Angela immediately cut her off.

"Push her too much, I know, but something else besides your memory loss is bothering you, isn't it?"

"Max hates me," I began. Even if I had only known the three of them for two years, it felt like we grew up together, as sisters, so if I couldn't confide in them, then who would I be able to trust? And so I began unloading all of my worries, from the fight in the P&E barn and everything that I knew from my past, including the fact that I had let Marcus die. Marcus, the most precious person in the entire world to Max and I failed to save him.

"The Circle is still active," I whispered, "And Max is going to join them as a double agent, but I don't want him to. It's dangerous and-" _there's a possibility that he won't make it out alive._

Angela mulled over my words for a few moments before responding, "Well Max is wrong. Why does it sound like to me that you care about him? Probably a lot more than he deserves. The death of his brother was not your fault. You were still a kid yourself and you would had died too if it wasn't for sheer luck, so stop blaming yourself for it. And since you're so oblivious, I'll do the honor of telling you that Max doesn't hate you. If he did, then he wouldn't had spent so much time bothering you and constantly seeking you out. In fact, I think that Max purposely made you think that he hated you so that you would stop trying to convince him to not go because believe it or not, you're the only one who can sway his resolve. Not Zach, not Soloman, not his Blackthorne buddies, but you."

"What?" A hundred different things ran through my mind at that moment, but none of it was able to make it out of my mouth except for that one word.

"Think about it," Angela continued, "Even Lucas, his best friend since they were children, said that Max is mostly angry that he wasn't there to protect you. If that doesn't tell you how much that boy cares about you, then I don't know what will. And I swear, don't try to fight me on this." Angela shot me a pointed look.

"Angela is right. You don't see what we see when you interact with him," Calie added softly, "And you don't see how his eyes are on you all the time."

"He even came to ask me things about you," Amy contributed, "At first I thought he wanted to just fish information out of me so he could use to tease you about, but Max was genuinely concerned for your well-being. I even saw him in the library one day researching how to regain memories."

"Max is going to kill me for telling you this," Angela said, with a mischievous glint in her eyes, "The day of the CoveOps assignment, we spotted you and Cole at the cotton candy stand, but Max didn't want to expose you because he remembered that you would always get pissed when he always found you first in Hide n Seek when you were children."

"I have to stop him." Without waiting to hear my roommates' replies, I scrambled out of my seat, letting my textbook lay forgotten on the table as I dashed out of the library, earning curious looks from the underclassmen.

After knocking on every door to the boys suite and getting no additional information about Max's whereabouts, I went to Headmistress Morgan's office, where I barged in on Headmistress Morgan, Mr. Soloman, and Professor Buckingham discussing the rumors about the Circle's revival, to which Professor Buckingham gave me a reprimanding look. Nonetheless, none of them looked surprised to see that I was there and Headmistress Morgan motioned for me to take a seat on the sofa.

"I trust that you understand what you hear in this room stays in this room," Headmistress Morgan stated, giving me a pointed look. I nodded.

"What do you need?" Headmistress Morgan asked. In the time I been here, this was probably the first time that I had directly spoken to Headmistress Morgan, minus the time when she questioned me while I was still delirious from all the drugs they injected in me at the hospital, but I found that she was less intimidating than the other girls made her out to be. In fact, I would say that Professor Buckingham was the scarier of the two.

"I was looking for Max and I thought maybe you would know where he is," I admitted, fidgeting under the scrutiny of Professor Buckingham.

"Max went back to the Blackthorne Institute to take care of some things. Zach is with him," Mr. Soloman answered, which was code for _he's in good hands, no need for you too worry._ But I was still worried because even with Zach by his side, chances were that Zach probably couldn't stop Max if he made up his mind.

"I need to stop Max from joining the Circle." Judging by their lack of response, the three of them were probably already well aware of his intentions.

"Zach won't let that happen," Mr. Soloman assured, "He knows better than anyone what being in the Circle is like and what it does to a person."

"Max is set to be the next leader of the Circle and since you killed his father, they'll stop at nothing to get him back into their ranks," I said.

"His father?" Professor Buckingham questioned, "You know who his father is?"

"You don't?" Their exchange of confused glances at each other was enough to confirm my doubts.

"Maxwell Edwards. Max's full name is Maxwell Edwards Jr."

* * *

 **A/N: Hey guys!**

 **Shout out to gymnast1150 for his/her awesome review! Thank you so much!**

 **Well there's not much I want to say in regards to what happened in this chapter except that I'm finally excited that the plot is moving now and there will be more exciting things coming up soon.**

 **Let me know what you guys think or any predictions that you may have now that some important information is being revealed to you bit by bit. :)**

 **Thank you for reading and until next time!**

 **-MM**


	6. Chapter 6

As expected, the adults didn't bother giving me any explanations. As expected, the adults exchanged those knowing looks that clearly indicated that it wasn't my place to know or ask exactly what they knew. What wasn't expected, however, was Mr. Soloman dialing Zach Goode and demanding that he came back to Gallagher Academy asap. Trained with years of experience, Zach didn't ask any questions although all of us heard Max protesting loudly in the background of the phone call, but Zach hung up before Max finished his sentence.

Professor Buckingham and Headmistress Morgan were both making phone calls in hushed whispers, presumably to some higher up. Mr. Soloman's tense posture, Professor Buckingham's shaking hands, and Headmistress Morgan's furrowed eyebrows told me everything that I needed to know.

"Edwards is dead," I stated flatly although I was sure that they were all aware of that fact considering that Mr. Soloman and Headmistress Morgan were present at his time of death.

Still, no one bothered to give my statement any response, not even a glance was spared.

"Edwards wasn't even the highest ranking Circle leader," I continued, despite being ignored, "Max is innocent. If anything, he's trying to take down the Circle, not join it."

Having expected no response, I was taken aback when Mr. Soloman whirled around to face me. He placed his hands on my shoulders, bending down slightly to look at me eye level with a solemn look in his eyes.

"Tell us everything you know," Mr. Soloman demanded.

"No," I countered, "Perhaps it's time for you guys to tell me what you know and then maybe I can help you."

"You're just a child," Professor Buckingham stated, "You don't need to know this information."

"I know it's hard to believe but I don't have all of the answers," I replied, "So between all of us, maybe we can piece together what is happening with the Circle and stop them before they make their move."

"And how would you know all of this information about the Circle?" Headmistress Morgan. Trust her to ask all of the hard questions.

Truthfully, I never thought about how i was going to answer the question ever since I found out that I was in some way affiliated with the Circle in the past, but I still didn't know to what extent and under what circumstances. All I knew that I would stop at nothing to stop them: for Marcus, for Max, and for myself.

And if I told them the truth, they would never trust me, just like how everyone in the agency questioned Mr. Soloman and Zach's loyalty for years until the takedown of the Circle and they hadn't explicitly done anything against the agency.

I had.

"Spy." That was a good enough of an answer to convince Headmistress Morgan to start talking.

I was given a rundown of the history of the Circle, starting from the Ioseph Caravan and his band of followers up to everything they knew. Of how Mr. Soloman and Matthew Morgan spent their early years tracking down the Circle. Of the Circle's first attempt of acquiring Cameron Morgan on the rooftop in Boston. Of the Circle's second attempt of acquiring Cameron Morgan on election night. Of how Mr. Soloman was accused of being a double agent, working for the Circle. Of how the Circle caught Mr. Soloman and their third attempt of acquiring Cameron Morgan at the Blackthorne caves. Of how the Circle finally succeeded in capturing Cameron Morgan the summer she ran away, leaving her with no memories. Of how Dr. Steve was a Circle member who tried to fish information out of Cameron Morgan. Of how Catherine Goode tried so hard to get her hands on the list of Circle leaders. Of how the passive Circle leaders were being killed off one by one before CIA could get to them. Of the Circle's ultimate plan to start another World War by killing off influential figures, including Amy, except Edwards' attempts were thwarted by Cameron. And how Catherine Goode set off a suicidal explosion.

And thus they thought that was the end of the Circle, with no word, no movement from the Circle in five years.

"From the ones that dared to show their faces," I commented, "The main branch of the Circle, comprised of the members of that list Cameron found, has been killed off, but there was always another side branch that worked silently from the shadows."

"Catherine Goode's group," Mr. Soloman stated.

"Catherine Goode's group was too high profile," I responded, "There was another group that Maxwell Edwards was apart of until he decided to join the main branch. Perhaps he got too impatient with all the waiting because the side branch likes to bide their time before striking."

"And how would you know all of this?" Professor Buckingham questioned.

"Based on the fragments of memories that I remember, they make up the Blackthorne faculty members, so if Max went back to Blackthorne now, then…"

"He would be falling right into their trap."

"Exactly."

* * *

It was no secret that Max was looking for me the moment that he got back to Gallagher, but I took extra care to avoid him by spending more time than I usually did in my room or hiding out in secret passageways when I wasn't in class. During class, I sat as far away from him as possible or took seats where all the nearby seats were occupied so he couldn't sit next to me, but I could feel his eyes drilling holes in the back of my head every time. When class let out, I was the first one out the door and when I didn't want to be found, then no one could find me, not even Max.

One, Max was probably angry at me for ruining his trip to Blackthorne, even though he wasn't aware that he was walking straight into a trap(or maybe he did and intentionally went to turn himself in to the Circle) and he certainly couldn't take his anger out on Zach or Mr. Soloman.

Two, Max was probably frustrated that no one would tell him anything and figured that I would be the most likely to give him answers, which I decided that I wasn't going to, but confronting him would make me lose my resolve.

And three, I was selfish and knew that Max wouldn't leave until he settled the matters between us, so the longer I avoided him, the longer he would stay. I was simply buying myself some time to gather the courage to inject the memory serum, which had been sitting in the top drawer of my shelf in my room, waiting for me to make a decision.

Three days later, the Circle made a decision for me.

In CoveOps, Mr. Soloman announced that we were going to have another assignment, that entailed crashing the Friday night football game at Roseville High's football stadium and approaching our assigned targets and getting an invite from them to the afterparty.

Was the assignment supposed to be easy? Probably, but after hearing Em and Nicole recount their failure to get an invitation to this supposedly elite party despite their best attempts at seducing their targets, all of the girl's mood was dampered.

The static buzzed in my right ear while my left ear was assaulted by the cheers from the Roseville High students number 6 streaked down the field, weaving past Nickel High's defense team and scored a touchdown. Playing my part as part of the Roseville High student body, I was decked out in their school colors, even donning some facepaint, and stood up to cheer each time a touchdown was scored or booed when Nickel High scored.

All around me, Gallagher Girls and Blackthorne Boys alike were scattered around the home side of the bleachers, blending into the crowd like we were all taught to do, but still, I could pick them out of the crowd easily. Three rows below me, Angela had successfully captured the attention of her target, Richard Brians, a supposed star on the Roseville soccer team. Judging from her body language, she was attempting to play hard to get, but that only seemed to attract Richard even more, earning not so subtle glares from the girls sitting on Richard's other side.

In the next section over, Cole and Justin had successfully merged their way into a crowd of boys and were chatting animatedly with all of them throughout the game. Occasionally, they would point to somewhere on the field, but mostly they were lost in their own conversation rather than paying attention to the actual game.

Amy in line at the concession stand, conveniently right in front of her target, the best friend of the host of the party. Surprisingly, the best friend had gotten in line without any of his friends with him, which allowed Amy the perfect opportunity to rope him into a conversation, which he gladly reciprocated. Instead of returning to her seat next to me, Amy followed the best friend to the very top row in my section, establishing her in to his group of friends.

As for me, my target was Ariana Blanks, the girlfriend of the host of the party. According to her file, Ariana was a cheerleader, which meant my window to talk to her and get an invite was very limited. My best option was to catch her after the cheerleader performance during halftime, when they had a break while the marching band played, so I sat in the bleachers, biding my time until the first two quarters ended.

Throughout the first quarter, I made small talk with two girls that sat next to me, but wasn't actually interested in carrying on a conversation with either of them since they weren't part of my objective. Despite that, I was glad for their company, and had I not been a Gallagher Girl, but a normal high school girl, I figured I would had been good friends with them. At the end of the first quarter, I told them I had to go to the bathroom and the two of them nodded, thinking that I was going to be back. But I wasn't.

For what it was worth, I told them the truth. I did go to the bathroom, and ran into Calie, but neither of us acknowledged each other. Instead, we brushed past either like we were complete strangers, with her hand lightly brushing against mine. My fingers curled around the paper until I reached one of the bathroom stalls, before unfolding her message.

Listed on the paper was a series of numbers which I deciphered to be points in time, presumably when the cheerleaders would be on break. I smiled to myself; leave it to Calie to find out this information for me. I tossed the paper into the toilet, flushing it before exiting the stall.

Very few words were exchanged among us during this assignment, lest we wanted to risk the possibility of being caught talking to ourselves when we were really relaying information through the comms, so it had been quiet ever since Em and Nicole relayed their failed attempt.

On my way back to the bleachers, I ran into the person that I had been trying to avoid for the past few days: Max.

We locked eyes for a couple of seconds and I was tempted to mumble an apology and continue my way up the stairs and pretend that we were strangers, but Max took that option away from me when his hand wrapped around my arm and dragged me up the steps to a relatively empty row, but there were still plenty of people surrounding us. I hope that Max had the sense to not confront me about what happened last week. There were too many eyes and ears everywhere for us to not expose ourselves.

Max had his arm wrapped around my waist and he used it to pull me closer to him, almost to the point where I was halfway in his lap. Max leaned in closer to me, so that he was speaking directly into my ear. To any onlooker, it would seem to be a classic boyfriend move, to whisper sweet nothings into his girlfriend's ears, but we were a lot more complicated than that. If it was only that simple.

"I spotted Soloman, Zach, Cameron, and Townsend at the game. And a lot more agents that I don't recognize. I think that this is more than just a simple CoveOps assignment."

I wanted to express my shock and ask Max questions for clarification, but I let out a couple giggles, as if hearing that there was a threat at a football game was a laughing matter, but we had our covers to think about.

"Do you know why they decided to come? Football games really aren't their scene," I asked, trying to keep my words as vague as possible, knowing that Max would understand what I was trying to ask.

"Well C came back to town to visit so they figured that they could try to intercept him here since they heard he was coming to the game." C...the Circle is here.

I plastered a fake smile on my face and with all of the faux enthusiasm I could inject into my voice and said, "Then we should go surprise them!" Max nodded in agreement, wrapping his hand around mine and pulling us through the crowd expertly.

The second quarter ended and normally I would had tried to approach Ariana, but the assignment was long forgotten upon receiving the news that the Circle was potentially here. The end of the quarter was a signal for the students to take the opportunity to pose for pictures, take bathroom breaks, or head to the concession stands, but despite all of the commotion that was going on, Max was still able to weave us expertly through the crowd. I spotted a couple of familiar faces, each with a determined look on their face and I could only gather that the news had spread to them as well.

"We should find Amy," I stated, hoping that Max could hear me over the marching band.

Max nodded, "When we find her, you're going to get her out of here. Lucas should be in position to drive you guys back to Gallagher at the back entrance. The rest of us will try to ward off the Circle members while you make your escape."

"What about you? The Circle is after you too."

"You know what I have to do. What I need to do," Max told me with a serious, but regretful look in his eyes, "This is my chance to stop the Circle for once and for all."

"No, I'm not going to let you go!" I shouted, holding onto Max tighter when he attempted to release his hold on my hand.

"Don't worry about me. I'll be alright. I just want to let you know that I'm sorry for everything and that I lo-"

Max never got to finish what he was saying because a gunshot rang through the air, the bullet missing me by three feet and scraping against the metal bleachers, landing a few millimeters from a kid's foot. Chaos erupted as all of the students scrambled down the bleachers, heading towards the exit for safety. The students on the field darted off of the field, abandoning their instruments as they followed the crowd toward the front and emergency exits, with adults directing the way.

Amidst the chaos, Max released my hand and disappeared into the crowd without another word. Cursing Max under my breath, I turned in the opposite direction of the exits, spotting Amy clambering down the steps two sections away. Her eyes widened as she dropped to the ground to avoid another attempt on her life. I met her halfway, grabbing her arm and pushing her towards the exit, while trying to locate the sniper.

Lucas' voice came through the comms, informing me that he was in position. Around us, some of the agents were engaged in combat with Circle members. Even some of the Gallagher Girls and Blackthorne Boys were attempting to hold off some of the Circle members, creating a clear path for Amy to the back entrance. Near the back entrance, a hard body rammed into me, knocking me out of breath and off of my feet, before reaching to grab Amy, but I sprung back onto my feet and tackled the person, earning a loud grunt.

Amy stopped running, pausing for a second while deciding whether or not to continue, but I motioned her to go while the man tossed me off of him. Amy shot me a look that clearly told me to be safe before slipping through the exit and hopefully meeting up with Lucas. The man tried to go after her, but I blocked his path.

Sure the man was twice my size and probably underestimated the damage that I could do, but he barreled straight at me, as if he could catch me off guard a second time. He threw a punch, which I dodged with ease, and I returned with a kick to his shin, which made contact, but only succeeded in slowing his next move, but that was enough for me to avoid the next punch that came and land a punch on his left side that was left open.

Without relenting, I continued to rain punches on the man, some of which he managed to parry off when he recovered his balance, but I managed to force him on defense, backing him into a wall. The man let out a noise of surprise when his back hit the wall and I took advantage of the few seconds of distraction to land a roundhouse kick on him, before slapping on a few nicotine patches just to be safe.

I rummaged through the pockets of the unconscious man, pulling out a cell phone, a pack of gum, and tranquilizer darts. I ripped the comms out of his ear and hooked it up to my own ear, but was met with nothing but static. I managed to scrounge up an ammunition clip on his belt, but there was no gun in sight. Placing all of the items into my pocket, I slipped out of the back entrance to see that the coast was clear and Lucas and Amy were nowhere to be seen, which I hoped meant that they made it safely.

Now, I had to find Max before the Circle got to him.

I rushed back out to the football field, where bodies were all over the grass and bloodstains stained the white marks on the field. I didn't stop to look at any of their faces, because I hoped that they were all Circle members and I didn't want to believe that there were any familiar faces here.

By now, most of the other Gallagher Girls and Blackthorne Boys had already evacuated out of the scene, leaving only seasoned agents and Max. I spotted him on the bleachers, fighting off the Circle members back to back with Zach and Mr. Soloman, but there were too many of them and it was continually becoming a losing battle for them.

On my way over to the bleachers, I stepped over a prone body; an empty handgun laying a few feet away from the body. I quickly snatched it up, reloading the gun on instinct, as if I had done it before a million times even though I had never been taught in my years at Gallagher. When I reached the bleachers, I watched as one of the men grab Max into a chokehold, reaching into his pockets, presumably for a tranquilizer dart. On instinct, I raised the gun in his direction and fired.

Seconds later, blood oozed out of his abdomen and he released Max, and toppled over, falling to the lowest end of the bleachers, his blood staining the metal. Dead. With perfect aim, I fired off two more shots, hitting the man who was trying to catch Zach off guard and another who had pulled out his own gun.

Time seemed to stand still when I heard the sound of someone clapping sarcastically. The figure descended from the top steps of the bleacher with a sniper rifle in his hand, with a mask covering all of his face except for his eyes. And those eyes looked familiar, but for the life of me, I couldn't recall where I had seen them before.

"What a touching reunion," the man stated, laughing at the ridiculousness of his own joke. When Zach made a move to take him down, he lazily raised his rifle so it pointed at me, halting his movements.

"A former Circle member turned double agent. Son of Catherine Goode. A next in line to be the Circle's leader. And Beth, our favorite assassin. You know, I was always jealous that a kid was a better shot than me, but at least that meant they sent you to do all of the dirty work of killing Knight and Winters." Zach visibly tensed at his words, while Max looked shocked to hear what I had done.

"I don't work for you anymore, Edwards," I spat, his name slipping from the tip of my tongue.

"Well I guess since you didn't keep your promise, I'll be forced to retract my promise too," Edwards stated, moving the gun so that it pointed at Max.

 _If you work for the Circle, I'll guarantee Max's safety. If you refuse, well he's not that valuable to us. There are other descendants to take over._ Edwards' voice rang in my ears. I don't know when or how that part of my memory returned, but all I knew was that I had to get to Max. As my feet carried me up the steps of the bleachers, amusement flickered in Edwards' eyes as his finger pushed the trigger. I was too late. The bullet grazed Max's arm despite Zach's attempt to pull him out of harm's way.

"That's your final warning. Next time, I won't be so generous."

"He's your nephew!" I shouted, "You're a cruel, despicable bastard just like Maxwell!"

"And he's a traitor. I guess that's what happens when you become influenced by traitors too," Edwards commented wryly, "Time is ticking Bethany. This will be your last warning. You know where to find me when you regain your senses and memories."

And then, he was gone, along with the remaining Circle members.

"What the fuck was he talking about?" Max demanded, clutching his now bandaged arm, courtesy of Mr. Soloman, "Answer me Bethany!"

"We'll discuss this when we get back to the mansion," Mr. Soloman interjected, "This is hardly a matter to be discussing in the open."

There was no way around it. I had put off getting my memories back long enough. At this rate, someone was going to get hurt if I continued to nothing about it. Maybe watching another life attempt on Amy or watching Max almost die triggered something inside of me, but all I knew was that my hand reached into my pocket and pulled out the serum. Before anyone could comprehend what was happening, I flicked off the cap and jabbed it into my thigh.

And then, I did what I did best: I disappeared.

* * *

 **A/N: Hi again, guys!**

 **This is the end of part one! So excited that I finally finished writing the portion where Bethany has memory loss; sometimes it's hard because I have to watch myself lest I accidentally reveal anything that she's not suppose to know at this point.**

 **So the subsequent chapters will have a change of POV; some chapters/parts will still be narrated by Bethany(first person POV), while others will be in third person POV(otherwise too many things will be revealed haha). I'm evil; I know.**

 **What did you guys think about the CoveOps assignment and their encounter with the Circle? Any guesses as to what Bethany's next move will be? Super excited to hear about your predictions because I'm really curious what direction you guys think that I'm going to take this story towards.**

 **Thank you to GallagherGirlsEmbassyRowFan for your review and to all of my readers for taking the time to read this!**

 **Until next time!**

 **-MM**


	7. Chapter 7

The news of a sixteen year old girl with memory loss working at as a double agent spread like wildfire throughout CIA, Interpol, and MI6, as well as Gallagher. It was the biggest scandal in recent spy history, ever since Maxwell Edwards was exposed to be a Circle member. Tina Walters, working undercover as a New York Times columnist, caught wind of the news and took care to inform everyone else through all her secret channel, the FBI, Secret Service, and even Blackthorne Institute.

Headmistress Morgan was under a lot of investigation, since she was the one who let Bethany into the academy in the first place, but with backings from the doctors who examined Bethany, it was determined that she really did have memory loss and her background records came up clean. It was only with the help of both Jonas and Liz hacking into the deepest databases, did they come up with Bethany's real identity.

Bethany Cavan, one of the last true descendants of the original founder, Ioseph Cavan.

That new piece of information sent the CIA up into another frenzy, in an attempt to trace Bethany's lineage to determine if there were any other Cavan still alive. Even during Joe Soloman and Matthew Morgan's stunt in the Circle, they had never encountered another Cavan and the Cavan family line was said to have died off after Ioseph Cavan, leaving the descendants of the other original Circle members to take over.

After finding no further information about the Cavan family, Jonas and Liz searched up the Edwards family, only to find information about Maxwell Edwards. His brother, Mark was briefly mentioned, but gave them no hints on where he could be found and the only person who probably knew where he was...was gone. Max himself wasn't deemed old enough or important enough to land himself in the database, but Bethany landed herself a spot at the tender age of eleven when she was charged with killing Samuel Winters.

As for Joe Soloman and Zachary Goode, both felt guilty that they were unable to stop Bethany from escaping and was under investigation for possibly aiding her escape, but that was quickly cleared up when some of the other agents at the scene testified that they had seen both of them try to go after Bethany.

The underclassmen at Gallagher whispered amongst themselves about the incident, recognizing it as one of the biggest scandals that has happened in Gallagher history, but one look from any of the eleven girls left in the junior class seemed to silence them. None of the girls said anything to each other about it, but they were all thinking the same thing: they felt betrayed.

In particular, Angela felt the betrayal hard because she had grown to trust Bethany with her life and had gone above and beyond to have her back always, but it seemed that Bethany wasn't willing to do the same for her. Instead, Bethany was more likely to put a bullet through Angela's back. All of those late movie nights, makeover sessions, study sessions...all an act. All for naught.

Every time Calie stared at the empty bed in their room, she was reminded once again of Bethany's departure. The CIA had already come to search through all of the things Bethany left behind, leaving a bare shelf, which Calie attempted to fill with some of her things to erase the reminder, but there was nothing she could do about the empty bed in the corner. It was true that Bethany had been one of the smartest and best fighter out of the twelve girls, but Calie simply hadn't expected it was because she was trained as an assassin. The irony, Calie thought, that she had been able to see such a stone cold assassin break down in the middle of the night because of a nightmare. Or was it a memory?

Amy was conflicted. By all rights, Bethany should had tried to kill her; in fact, she had multiple chances to do so at the football stadium, but instead she ushered her to safety and even risked her life to fight off a Circle member. Amy knew that the other girls had quietly accepted the fact that Bethany was a traitor, but they hadn't seen Bethany save her. Despite what everyone else says, Amy believed that Bethany had good intentions somewhere, even if she was being dubbed as a traitor.

Max didn't know whether he should be angry at himself for letting everything play out the way it did or if he should be angry at Bethany for falling into their trap. Bethany was a Circle member, which explained all of the summers she disappeared without a word, possibly working for his uncle or someone else. And when she disappeared when they were ten, she probably joined the Circle full time. And then she showed up at Gallagher as a spy.

Max endured multiple rounds of interrogation from the CIA, spilling everything he knew about the Circle. He hated the parts where they prodded into his relationship with Bethany, leading him to share personal memories that not even Lucas knew about, but Zach advised him to cooperate since Max was under CIA scrutiny for being Edwards' son. Throughout all of it, Max just wished that somehow, he could trade places with Bethany.

The looming threat of the Circle caused the security at the mansion to be ramped up and the security system to be redesigned since Bethany was able to sneak in and out of the mansion without triggering the alarms. Some CIA agents went undercover as part of the faculty, but most of the underclassmen knew that they were CIA agents, but no one commented on it. CoveOps became boring, since Joe Soloman was under strict orders that there would be no more outdoor assignments, so day after day, it was lecture after lecture.

Macey McHenry was called back to Gallagher from the Secret Service to act as Amy's bodyguard, much to her dismay. Even within the mansion surrounded by so many spies-in-training, the CIA wasn't taking any chances after witnessing a second attempt on her life. Amy quietly endured having a shadow following her around all day, even though Macey tried her best to keep her distance. Macey ended up taking Bethany's empty bed.

If only things could return to the way they were.

"Even if no one else believes in her, I do," Amy stated out of the blue to Macey, who had been checking the messages on her phone. Macey cocked her head slightly, but refrained from commenting. As much as she was certain that Bethany was working for the Circle, Macey didn't want to get into an argument with Amy about it, so she chose the safest option: silence.

"You don't believe me, but that's okay," Amy said with a wry smile on her face, "You'll see." If only the Macey then could see how true Amy's words rang.

* * *

 _When fourteen year old me found a message at the dead drop location asking to meet in person, I was surprised because I had never seen this man in person. The ever elusive leader of the silent branch of the Circle never appeared in public, always getting his henchmen to deliver the dead drops or relaying his messages through his correspondents._

 _My handler was a middle age red-hair woman who called herself Ally, but I always had my suspicions on whether or not that was actually her real name, but I didn't question her about it just like she never questioned anything about my past. At best, we were mere acquaintances, and sometimes even mission partners, but she was simply just there as my "legal guardian" if things got too complicated._

 _When Ally showed up at my doorstep one hour before the designated meeting time, I knew what she had came for, so I complied and slipped into the back of her vehicle, putting on a blindfold like I knew she would order me to._

 _If the regular branch of the Circle was secretive, then we were much more secretive than that. Ally seemed to be a high ranking member herself, but I gathered that she never truly met the boss himself, but rather people who had posed as him, but we were all taught to not ask questions, but to simply accept it._

 _Over the years, my assignments had been given to me via the dead drop location. Most of the time, the paper would have a single name on it, which was enough for me to know it was an assassination mission and Ally would be tasked with transporting to the location and then I would be on my own. Other times, I tailed CIA agents and fished out as much information as I could through their clipped correspondences with each other._

 _Having officially joined the Circle at the age of ten, I was youngest member to become a part of the Circle, but that had advantages since I was least likely to be suspected. And the leader had deemed my skills worthy enough to coerce me into joining by threatening to kill Max._

 _As expected, Ally dropped me off at the edge of a forest. Without a single word, she drove off, leaving me alone in the vast forest. A quick glance at my watch told me there was fifteen minutes left until meeting time, so I entered the forest, scouring the tree branches for any sign of human presence. Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted a slightly broken branch, and I shifted my path leftward and continued to follow the subtle trail left behind._

 _After navigating deep into the forest, I stumbled upon a clearing with a lone cabin house in the middle of it, fenced off from the rest of the forest. Cautiously, I eyed my surroundings, before determining that there weren't any surprise traps, but inched forward slowly, nonetheless. Upon reaching the fence, I glanced around at my surroundings once more before hoisting myself over the wooden fence and landing silently on the grass on the other side._

 _Barely taking two steps onto the territory, the front door swung open, revealing a stockily built man who carried a rifle on his back and had plenty of ammunition clips clipped onto his belt. He was dressed in camouflage pants, but otherwise donned black clothing for the rest of his attire, including his mask. The man shifted slightly, allowing enough space for me to slip through the door, an universal sign that I was welcomed in._

 _My eyes lingered on him for two more seconds before I slipped through the door, barely making a sound despite the creaky structure before the door was shut soundly behind me._

 _Seated at the kitchen table smoking a cigar, was another man who was dressed in similar attire as the other man, minus all of the weapons. His free hand absently stirred the already cold coffee on the table, as he slouched over the table, giving off the impression that he wasn't on his guard. I knew better than that. If needed, he could probably leapt to his feet and cross the distance between us in two seconds flat. One didn't become a Circle leader by being sloppy._

" _Sit." His cold, flat voice sent chills down my spine. As much as I didn't want to lessen the distance between us, my body still obeyed his command and pulled out the wooden chair from underneath the kitchen table and sat down._

 _Now sitting right across from him, the only part the mask didn't cover was his stormy, grey eyes which fixated intently upon me, almost like he was staring right into my soul. To my credit, I didn't fidget or squirm under his gaze and just sat there like a statue until he tore my eyes off me of me. He let out one more puff of smoke before smashing the cigar into the ashtray._

" _I have a new assignment for you," he began, as if I already didn't know that. There was nothing else he could possibly want to see me for, although this was probably a huge assignment if he wanted to see me in person. "It's a long term assignment and will require you to go undercover."_

 _There was a lot of questions I wanted to ask, but no one interrupted the leader of the Circle while they were speaking, so I kept quiet and waited patiently for him to continue talking._

" _I'm sure you've heard of Gallagher Academy for Exceptional Women. A lot of their agents are part of the faculty member and some of the best spies in the world come from that school, so I want you to go undercover and find out everything you can. According to other intel I've received, Gallagher acts as an unofficial CIA base._

" _Princess Amirah is also at Gallagher so I want you to get close to her and when the time comes, I want you to kill her. By then you'll have earned her trust, so it should be an easy task for you."_

 _I waited three minutes for him to continue since there were still so many details that were lacking, but when he didn't speak, I realized that it was my turn to ask for questions._

" _How long?"_

" _When it's time, you'll know."_

" _When do I start?"_

" _As soon as you can."_

" _How do I get in?"_

" _I trust that you will be able to figure that out on your own. After all, you are one of our brightest. I'm counting on you. Remember, your precious Max's safety depends on your success." As if I needed to be reminded every time that I had blood stained on my hands that I was doing all of this to protect Max._

 _Three minutes. I had met the man who had made my life hell for a grand total of three minutes, but I had spent four years and counting of my life doing dirty deeds for him._

 _I spent the next week digging for information on Gallagher, only to find out that for an outsider to become a student, there was a series of extensive tests that I needed to take before they determined if I was qualified to become a student while going through numerous background checks. Background checks weren't a problem; I could hack into the CIA database and plant a faux profile of me and I had numerous experiences of being able to lie while undetected by lie detectors. The main problem was that I was already past the age when people normally applied, as a eleven year old entering into seventh grade._

 _A little more digging revealed that the last person to enter Gallagher in the middle of the six year long curriculum was Macey McHenry, a politician's daughter and a direct descendant of Gillian Gallagher._

 _If I wanted to get into Gallagher, I needed to resort to drastic measures to create an extraordinary situation especially if they were suspicious of outsiders after Dr. Steve Sanders managed to slip through their ranks._

 _Another exception had been Zachary Goode who transferred to Gallagher after it was deemed to be unsafe for him to continue to stay at Gallagher, not when his mother, a prominent Circle member, was out hunting for him. Although I was technically a Blackthorne student, there was no way I could get into Gallagher without raising suspicions._

 _After many days of racking up ideas, I finally thought of a risky, very likely to fail plan, but it was better than nothing._

 _Step one, erase my memories._

 _Step two, having known the layout of Gallagher like the back of my hand, hope that my instincts are still with me even without my memories and sneak into the mansion and trigger an alarm or two that will alert them of my presence._

 _Step three, go through all the necessary medical examinations to determine to that I had amnesia._

 _Step four, hope that my memories would eventually return._

 _Step five, have a serum that would return all of my memories, stored somewhere nearby, when it was time to get out of there._

 _Step six, hope that Gallagher would accept me after finding out that I had no memories and nowhere to go. Play up the sympathy angle._

 _Step seven, hope that I still retained some of my skills so that I could demonstrate that I was on par enough to begin in ninth grade, rather than start at seventh._

 _Step eight, bide my time while I waited for the Circle's signal._

 _The plan was probably the worst one that I had come up with in the past four years, but I could think of nothing else that might work. Without any of my memories, there would be less problems with constructing a web of lies or having to come up with lies to answer their questions, simply because I chalk up everything to memory loss. Of course, much of my plan involved a lot of hoping and a lot of luck that things panned out the way it did, but even if it failed, CIA wouldn't get any information out of me._

 _The next day, my plan was set in motion when Ally introduced me to Dr. Baron, the same man who erased Cameron Morgan's memories of the summer that she was caught. Before Dr. Baron took away my memories, Ally explained that she would hide the serum at Roseville's Central Bank and would direct me to it when it was time to retrieve my memories. With a curt nod, I closed my eyes and felt the needle pierce my skin._

 _I blacked out and when I woke up again, I was outside the gates of Gallagher with a blank mind. All I could remember was my name and the haunting image of a ten year old boy calling my name as he gradually became smaller and smaller until he disappeared out of sight altogether._

* * *

 **A/N: Hi again guys!**

 **So super anticlimactic because I wanted to have a chapter to serve as a transitioning. Like I mentioned last chapter, first person POV will still be from Bethany, italics indicate a flashback.**

 **So this was my first time writing third person POV for this story, what do you guys feel about it? Do you prefer this or 1st person?**

 **Also, next week I will be super busy, so the next update might be a little later than usual, but we'll see. :)**

 **Let me know what you think!**

 **Thank you guys for reading! Until next time!**

 **-MM**


	8. Chapter 8

After hacking into the CIA secret channel, I confirmed that I was very much a wanted fugitive and Circle member, so I made myself scarce. My uncanny ability to disappear had earned me a moniker of Ghost at Blackthorne and it stuck with me throughout my time at the Circle, but at Gallagher I was dubbed as Cheetah after my classmates witnessed my speed and agility.

As expected, my memories didn't return to me all at once. Instead, they came in fragmented sections, sometimes from different time periods in my life, leaving me confused and disorientated. But every night, my memories never failed to return to me bit by bit but as the days dragged on I began to suspect that something was off. For five days, my memories returned, but the sixth and seventh days yielded nothing. By the eighth day, I was convinced that something was wrong. By the ninth day, I was able to deduce exactly what was wrong: all of my memories revolving Max was missing. Never once could I recall any interaction I had with him, only mentions of his name, usually in the context of the Circle threatening to eliminate him if I didn't follow through with their assignments. And if I learned anything at Gallagher, it was that I was Max's best friend and stuck by his side all throughout our early years, so there was no way that I didn't have any memories of him, which only led me to one conclusion. The Circle had deliberately erased all of my memories of Max.

Dr. Baron was going to pay for it.

The first and only time I met Dr. Baron in person was the day he erased my memories and the meet had been arranged by Ally. Logically, Ally would be my best choice at tracking down Dr. Baron, but there was no guarantee that she wasn't working with him. In fact, it was highly possible that Ally was the one who ordered the memories to be wiped, or even some of the higher ups in the Circle.

Dr. Baron had been involved in a lot of dirty work, including the creation of a deadly poison used for a lot of our assassinations, wiping away Cameron Morgan's memories that summer, and produced some biohazardous weapons that the CIA had been trying to exterminate for the past decade. As a result, he preferred laying low, even within the Circle, but that was all a facade.

He was very much at the forefront of the Circle's activities, very much exposed to the public as Head of the Medial Department for the CIA. Also the same man who examined me when I first showed up at the doorsteps of Gallagher Academy.

And I knew exactly where to find him: at the CIA's headquarters.

So instead of heading to one of the Circle's many safehouses in Virginia to return as a member of the Circle and to avoid being found by the CIA, I was headed towards Washington D.C., right into CIA territory.

As a minor, there was a limited amount of freedom for movement, so my first order of business was to visit an acquaintance of the Circle, an old man who barely spoke a word. Even when I showed up at his doorstep at two in the morning, the old man didn't ask any questions. Instead, he slid a plastic card down the table towards me, while I placed the money in his open palm. No words were exchanged, no questions were asked, and ten minutes later, I was back out into the open as eighteen year old Eva Ross.

At two in the morning, I had limited options with only a white pick up truck, an old Honda, and a motorcycle parked in the parking lot far enough to be out of sight of the cameras. In the end, I settled with breaking into the old Honda, almost choking at the first intake of the cigarette smelling interior before I began hotwiring the car.

When the engine roared to life, I was pleased to see that the tank was almost full, but felt slightly guilty about hijacking someone's car, but I needed someway to get to Washington D.C. as little exposure to the public as possible. Welp, this would just add to the long list of crimes that I was already charged for.

I backed my way out of the parking lot and managed to safely ease onto the main road without being seen by anyone. Driving had been one of the few things that Gallagher taught me that I didn't already know before and for once it came in handy.

I drove nonstop, knowing that it was just a matter of time before the police would try to track down the vehicle by the license plate number. About half an hour away from exiting off the highway, I ditched the vehicle on the side of the road, driving it into a tree, causing a tree to fall and flatten the car. At least this way, they wouldn't be able to so easily access the interior to sweep for fingerprints, since I didn't have the option to burn the car. Well even if they were able to identify it as me, it would just be added to the long list of things I was wanted for.

For the rest of the way, I went on foot through the forest, but staying close to the edge where I could still see the road. After a couple of hours of trudging through broad daylight, I finally saw the exit and followed it off the freeway.

At first, it was my memory of the route that I memorized from the map on my phone, that I later tossed in a trash bin in fear there were tracking devices either planted by the Circle or the CIA, that carried me to my destination, but the further I went, the more familiar the surroundings became. I had walked down this path, several times and soon my feet began to carry me away from the direction of the CIA headquarters, but rather to a residential district at the outskirts of town.

Rows of houses lined up neatly side by side, with little distance in between them. Freshly mowed lawn and manicured flower beds, all surrounded by a white picket fence. My feet stopped in front of a red brick house, with puffy light blue curtains framing the windows. Through one of the open windows, I saw a woman in the house, sitting casually on the couch watching T.V while knitting a scarf.

My heart wanted me to go up and knock on the door, but my brain told me it wasn't a good idea. But I seemed to be full of bad ideas lately and before I knew it, my finger pressed the doorbell. I contemplated high tailing it out of there, but before I could even form the thought together, the door swung open, and there stood a woman, who looked almost exactly like me, except forty years older.

Her look of surprise soon morphed into amusement as she stepped out of the way to grant me entrance into her home. At that point, I could have turned back if I wanted to, but she had already saw me and I was no coward. So I stepped into the house and she closed the door behind me.

"So disappearing off the grid for so many years and then becoming CIA's most wanted overnight. You sure know how to make a reappearance," she commented, gesturing for me to take a seat. I did, while she reclaimed the same spot she had been sitting before I rang on the doorbell.

"It wasn't supposed to happen that way," I muttered, "A lot of things have happened and now I'm framed for things I didn't do."

"Things you didn't do or things you don't want to believe that you did?" she questioned although I was pretty sure that she already knew the answer to the question.

Just to humor her for old times sake, I answered, "Things that I don't want to believe I did, I suppose."

"Like a good mother should, I suppose I should ask you how you have been over these years, but I'm sure everything you did is classified though I've been privy to a lot of rumors floating around the CIA of exactly what you've been doing. So I guess a better question would be to ask why you're here, at the CIA's doorstep."

"I had to gamble on the fact that you wouldn't turn me in," I confessed, just like how she never did the many times I came before or how she let my father escape when she could had caught him and ended the Circle for once and for all. To this day, I was almost certain that it was her biggest regret of her life, and she probably hoped that letting me go wasn't going to turn out to be another one.

"What a troublesome child," my mother huffed, "If you only stayed at Gallagher and became a CIA agent, then I wouldn't be in a dilemma. You're just like your father, always making me choose between my loyalties to family and the country. Maybe I should just turn you in."

Although I knew that she was only half heartedly contemplating on turning me in, I didn't want to take the chance, "If you turn me in, then there will be no one left to take down the Circle."

"What makes you think I can trust you? After all, you have Cavan blood in you and generation after generation, your family has supported the Circle and kept it alive all of this time."

"Because half of me is Anderson blood." My mother shot me a skeptical look, but didn't say anything else, but based on the look in her eyes, I could tell that her resolve was wavering.

"Will you trust me?"

I held my breath in anticipation of her answer, but much to my relief, after thirty seconds of no response, my mother finally nodded her head.

"This is the first and last time that I'll help you," my mother stated firmly and I could tell that she meant it this time, "The next time we meet, we will be CIA agent and Circle member, not mother and daughter, do you understand?"

My lips curled up into a faint smile, "Don't worry, I'll make sure that we won't cross paths. And after all of this is over...I'll turn myself in, don't worry."

"What do you need?"

"I need your help breaking into the CIA headquarters."

* * *

My declaration was surprisingly met with no questions from my mother. Instead, her eyes hardened for a moment probably in thought before she agreed with my request. If the roles were reversed, I wouldn't had been so quick to agree to such a request, but my mother must have decided to place full faith in me. Which was nice because I didn't even know if I could trust myself.

With her help, breaking into the headquarters was a relatively easy task. After slipping into one of the barely known side entrances, I began to follow her instructions on how to get to the medical department.

At first, I contemplated on sneaking around to get to the medical department, but I settled on just walking there, feeling uneasy at how many people saw me, even if they barely spared a glance, or the number of cameras that caught me on footage, since I was used to hiding in the shadows. But a confident stride and change of clothes, courtesy of my mother, was all that I needed so that no one stopped to question me. It also didn't hurt that very few people knew what I looked like, even if my name was notoriously known.

When I reached the medical department, I spotted Dr. Baron exiting a laboratory and began to follow him, though I occasionally slowed down to read some of the plaques on the wall when others passed by all while keeping an eye on Dr. Baron.

After following Dr. Baron for a good fifteen minutes, as he deliberately took the long, roundabout paths, leading to us circling around the same places a couple of times, and me almost losing him once around a corner, Dr. Baron stopped to his tracks, tossed a wary glance over his shoulder as I ducked around the corner to avoid being spotted, and proceeded straight ahead. Three doors down, Dr. Baron reached into his pocket and pulled out a ring of keys and stuck the silver one into the door and slipped inside.

Dr. Baron was already paranoid... interesting.

I slinked quietly down the hall; this time taking care to avoid the cameras until I reached the door to the room, presumably his office if the name plaque next to the door was any indication. He took all of these precautions just to go to his office? And here I thought he was going to meet up with a Circle member or Dr. Baron had some secret laboratory where he did all the dirty work for the Circle.

"I expect you to uphold your promise," Dr. Baron said, his words slightly muffled by the door, but still clear enough for me to make out. I leaned closer to the door, pressing my ear against the door.

After a few moments of silence, Dr. Baron spoke again, "Don't try to lie to me; I know that even you don't know where she is right now."

"What do you mean I'm in the safest place in the world? If she wants to find me, she will. Two years ago, she threatened to hunt me down and kill me if I did anything to tamper with her memories. You didn't see the look in her eyes when she made that threat. If it wasn't for all of your reassurances that you would protect me, I wouldn't had done it."

Me. He was talking about erasing my memories over the phone with the one who wanted me to have all of Max's memories erased. I needed to find out who that was.

"Either you find her, or I'm going to disappear off the grid. I'm sure Edwards won't take too kindly of you driving away such a valuable informant, would he?"

While Dr. Baron spoke, I took a bobby pin out of my hair, sticking it into the keyhole and began jiggling it, hoping that Dr. Baron would be too distracted by his phone call to notice that someone was trying to break in.

"Of course I remember that you're an assassin too, but first rule of an informant is that they're no good if they're dead. I'm not afraid of you, I'm-" Dr. Baron never got to finish what he was saying because the lock clicked and I swung it open, barging into the room before shutting the door behind me. Dr. Baron dropped the phone he had in his hands, his mouth wide open and blinking rapidly as if he wasn't sure if he was dreaming or not. The phone dropped with a clang on the floor, the other person calling Dr. Baron's name. A female voice. One that I was all too familiar with.

"What a nice surprise," Dr. Baron managed to choke out, rearranging his posture into one that was a picture of calm, when he was anything but. His shaking hands, clenched teeth, and the way his eyes tried to look at everywhere but me, gave it all away.

"You know what I want, so give it to me," I stated calmly, holding my palm outwards, while my other hand reached into my back pocket and pressed a button on the voice recorder.

Still not looking at me, Dr. Baron mumbled something under his breath.

"Louder," I demanded, stepping closer to his desk, to which Dr. Baron responded by shooting me a sheepish smile as he not so subtly scooted his chair back.

"The memories...are gone forever. I was under orders to make sure there was nothing you could do to get those memories back."

"Why?"

"I don't know," Dr. Baron stuttered, "I didn't question it; I just did what i was told to do."

"What did she offer you in return because I can offer it to you, tenfold," I stated, getting a satisfaction out of seeing Dr. Baron squirm uneasily in his chair.

"Protection from...you," Dr. Baron forced out, "And money."

"So easily manipulated by money," I commented airly, "So there's no way to get my memories back?"

"I don't have a cure. The only cure that I had, you already took it. All I ever did was completely wipe away people's memories, not help them regain it. You were the first."

"If I was the first, then how did Cameron regain her memories?"

"I don't know!" Dr. Baron stated, panicking, "Probably because she was in a familiar environment and it triggered something in her and she unconsciously began to remember things even if her brain doesn't. I really don't know how to get your memories back, so please spare me."

"Why would I do that?" I asked incredulously, "You were the ones who took my memories away. If I can't get them back, then at least I'll get the satisfaction of killing you."

"The Circle needs me!" Dr. Baron shouted, holding his hands in the air as a surrender.

"The Circle may need you," I said, leaning over his desk, using my elbows to prop myself up, while Dr. Baron scooted his chair backwards until the chair hit the wall behind him, "But I don't. Besides, if you're so easily swayed by money, I would be doing the Circle a favor by killing you so you can't leak any information to the CIA when you get busted."

"I wasn't the one who wanted your memories erased! It was Kaitlin Goode!" Dr. Baron exclaimed, "Go after her instead!"

"Kaitlin Goode?" I could had sworn the voice on the phone was Ally, unless Ally was just her alias and her real name was Kaitlin Goode. Based on the few times I met Catherine Goode, the similarities between the two were strikingly obvious, but I never thought more of it.

"Yes, her. Catherine's younger sister and one of Edward's direct underlings. Go for her instead."

"Don't worry, I will," I stated, watching Dr. Baron let out a sigh of relief, "But after you." Before Dr. Baron could utter another word, I pulled out the knife tucked in the waistband of my jeans and tossed it at him, the tip burying straight into his heart. I watched his body slump down in his chair as his blood stained his white lab coat.

I went around his desk to retrieve his fallen phone, to see that his last call was to an unknown number and that Kaitlin had already hung up ten minutes ago, which meant she never got to hear Dr. Baron selling her out. Even better for me.

Spotting a notepad on Dr. Baron's desk, I ripped a piece of paper off of it and scribbled a note for the CIA, before tossing the voice recording onto this desk, right on top of the paper. I pocketed the phone and made my way out of his office, closing his door shut behind me.

And just like I was known for, I slipped out of the headquarters from the same way I came in, without alerting anyone of my presence. Once I was out of the headquarters, I spared one last glance at it before trudging forward, anxious to create distance between the place and me, before CIA found Dr. Baron's dead body and realized that I was there.

Next stop, the Circle's safe house.

* * *

 **A/N: Heyyyy guys!**

 **So this is the first chapter from Bethany's perspective after gaining her memories. What do you guys think about her as a character now? Would/do you trust her?**

 **Let me know what you guys think and what your predictions are because I am curious to see in which direction you guys think I will take the storyline. Plus speculation is always fun. :)**

 **As always, thank you for reading and until next time!**

 **-MM**


	9. Chapter 9

Despite all of the CIA's attempts to keep the situation under wraps, once Tina Walters got wind of the news that Bethany Cavan had been able to sneak into the CIA headquarters, every branch of intelligence knew and word even reached Rebecca Baxter who was on the other side of the globe occupied with the take down of a drug trafficking crew that was funding the Circle.

So for the first time that year, the four of them, Cammie, Bex, Liz, and Macey were all called to the CIA headquarters to be reunited, but also under circumstances in which they didn't want to be, along with Zach and Joe Soloman.

Cammie, Zach, and Joe were all questioned about everything that they knew about Bethany, but they didn't get much out of them that they already didn't know from Max's testimony.

"I want you to understand that everything I tell you today is on a need to know basis," Director Gideons stated. After receiving confirmation from everyone that they understood the gravity of the situation, he continued, "We caught her on the cameras following Dr. Baron to his office, but there's no footage of her ever entering into his office or any trace of her leaving the building, but we know that she was in his office because she left a note."

How many blind spots are there?" Bex questioned.

"39," Director Gideons replied.

"She's bloody good," Bex muttered under her breath, but everyone still heard her.

"We're working minimizing those blind spots at the moment," Director Gideons informed them, "However, this incident only proves that we underestimated her. She may be a sixteen year old kid, but she has the experience of a seasoned assassin."

"The autopsy report came out," Liz stated, "There was no other marks on Dr. Baron's body, which indicated there wasn't much of a struggle. The only wound was from the knife, which pierced into his body three inches. Based on the angle and depth, the knife was definitely tossed and Bethany was about five feet away from him. The wound was at his heart, so Dr. Baron was facing Bethany at the time. Dr. Baron didn't fight back, which means…"

"He wanted to die or he knew there was no point in fighting it," Macey finished for her.

"You mentioned that Bethany left a note," Zach commented, "What did it say?"

"She didn't leave only a note, but a voice recording also," Director Gideons answered, holding out the recording for them and playing the same conversation he had heard at least ten times already for some hidden clues.

At the mention of Dr. Baron being the culprit for wiping Cammie's memories, she visibly tensed, but didn't comment on it. Hearing the nervousness and fear in Dr. Baron's voice made Liz feel uneasy, uneasy on how a teenager girl was able to evoke that level of fear from a grown man. When Kaitlin Goode's name was mentioned, Zach's eyes widened in surprise and everyone turned to look at him for an explanation, but Zach didn't say anything and continued to listen to the recording until it ended.

"The note stated just said 'You're welcome for me getting rid of the traitor for you. Be careful, they're all around you.'" Director Gideons said after the recording ended, "I understand why she went after Dr. Baron for her personal vendetta, but I don't understand why she warned us that there are other moles in the CIA."

"Perhaps to plant the notion that everyone is suspicious even if they might not be," Joe Soloman reasoned, "That's how all groups start falling apart because of lack of trust. On that note, Kaitlin Goode, Zach?"

"My aunt that I thought was dead," Zach answered with his jaw clenched, "Catherine told me she was dead after she disappeared when I was younger."

"According to what I know, the Circle had a falling out, splitting among the main branch and some of the smaller branches, such as the group that Catherine belonged to. Based on what I know, the branch that is active now never worked directly for the main branch but aided them occasionally. I guess that Catherine didn't agree with what Kaitlin did, so she cut ties with her," Liz explained.

"Now we have three names, so we can start tracking them down. If we find Kaitlin before Bethany does, then we can get her," Bex stated, crossing her arm over her chest almost as if to say "what are they waiting for?"

"She won't go find Kaitlin first," Cammie countered, "She was the one who deliberately left the recording behind so she knows that she said she was going after Kaitlin next, probably to throw her off of her track. And in the event we do find Kaitlin, we would get rid of Kaitlin for Bethany and then she doesn't even have to do any of the dirty work herself."

"Still, we can start taking down the Circle," Bex stated, her expression darkening, "And end this for once and for all."

"Things aren't that simple," Joe said, "Last time we had a list to help us track down the members and the Circle was working against each other."

"And if we do have a list?" Macey tossed out, crossing her arms across her chest, leaning against her chair nonchalantly.

"What do you mean, Macey?" Liz questioned, "I already tried looking for a list and there's not one or if there is, it's a paper list."

"Think about it," Macey said, "All of the names that we know are because of Bethany. She didn't have to expose Edwards' identity or leave that recording behind or kill Baron. Sure, Bethany might have done it for her personal revenge, but if she's willing to turn against her own people, then she's probably not as loyal as we thought she was."

"Bethany can't be trusted," Joe stated firmly.

"And we thought you couldn't be either when you were posing as a triple agent," Cammie pointed out, "Our trust in you turned out fine."

"Yes, but…"

"But what?" Cammie questioned.

"There's a lot of rumors that she was the one who killed Matthew Morgan," Joe blurted out, looking uncomfortable at the topic, "But we don't know for sure."

Cammie's face fell and wordlessly, Zach wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer to him while he exchanged glances with Joe.

Director Gideons cleared his throat to get all of their attention, "Macey, I want you to continue keeping an eye on Amy. Liz, keeping digging up any information that you possibly can on the Circle. Bex, Cammie, and Zach, I want you to investigate on some leads that we have."

"Yes sir."

* * *

Max was letting out all of his frustration on the punching bag in the P&E barn. Even when his arms burned from the exertion and drops of sweat tickled as they rolled down his face, Max didn't stop because he feared that his mind would wander to things that he didn't want to think about if he did. At least his brain was focusing on the pain rather than on a certain someone.

He hated the constant sympathetic looks that were thrown his way by his Blackthorne classmates, knowing about his relationship with Bethany. He especially hated how Lucas, Justin, and Cole were walking on eggshell around him lately when they had never been afraid of speaking their mind or acting like themselves. Even Zach had come to comfort him, but that only made him angrier because it reminded him that he could had stopped Beth. In fact, he was probably the only person in the entire world who could had stopped her.

Yet Beth had chosen to walk down the same path that Max tried so hard to escape from.

Logically, Max should had been delighted because the Circle wasn't after him anymore since they got Beth back, who was always the preferred candidate to be the next leader, but he found himself wanting to join her. Or at least take her place.

Even as the news of Beth killing a double agent in cold-blood spread around Gallagher, Max still couldn't see her as anything but the sweet, little girl who followed him and Marcus everywhere. Or her little pout every time he would win at tag because she could never keep up with him. Or the way her eyes lit up every time he brought her her favorite strawberry smoothie on her birthday. Or even her annoyed expression every time Max teased her.

After the news of the murder, it solidified that everyone thought Beth was an actual Circle member. Even the junior class, who had been indecisive about how they felt about her, pinned her as a double agent. Only Amy and Max were the only ones left that believed her.

"Everyone thinks I'm stupid," Amy stated as she laid on the mats in the P&E barn. Five minutes ago, Max had stopped punching the bag to join on her the mats, breathing heavily to catch his breath.

"They say I keep trusting a traitor," Amy continued, not deterred by Max's lack of response, "But I saw genuine emotions in Beth. She was genuinely scared when the Circle almost got me at the stadium. There's only a certain amount of emotions that one can fake."

"You've only known her for two years; what makes you so sure?" Max questioned, interested on seeing Amy's take.

"A gut feeling," Amy replied, "I can't explain it, but I'm certain that Beth's intentions aren't all that bad."

"They're not all that good either."

Amy let out a light chuckle, "That's for certain. We can't all be good."

"I heard you were attending a rally next week. Be careful," Max cautioned.

"The CIA doesn't want me to go," Amy answered, chuckling lightly, "But my family has aligned themselves to Senator Hunter for the presidential run, so they have requested that I am there too, to show entire family support. Unfortunately letting me go to these things was one of the conditions for letting me attend Gallagher. But don't worry, I can take care of myself now and Macey will be there along with a multitude of security. Besides, I believe that Beth won't harm me."

"Beth might not, but the others won't be so merciless."

"I know, but that's the CIA's chance to get the Circle."

"You're bait?"

Amy merely only smiled, "To end it for once and for all."

* * *

"You should control your subordinates better," Kaitlin hissed, barging into Mark's safehouse. His guard tried to hold her back, but she easily forced his grip off of her and slammed her palms angrily down onto the table, but Mark had no expression. Instead, he calmly sipped his coffee almost like nothing had happened, gesturing with a hand for her to sit. Angrily, Kaitlin plopped down in the seat across from him, getting pissed at how calm he remained.

"Because of her, we lost an important informant. You know that we don't have many inside men in the Circle, not after they caught so many of them after the takedown of the main branch of the Circle," Kaitlin continued, her voice rising with every word, "And now Baron is dead! You should kill her for insubordination before she does anything else to hurt the Circle!"

"Are you done?" Mark asked calmly, setting his coffee back down onto the table. When Kaitlin nodded, Mark continued speaking, "And whose fault is that? Who told you to erase Bethany's memories of Max?"

"I did it for the good of the Circle!" Kaitlin protested, "Max was her weakness, so if she forgot about him then she would become the perfect soldier. And Max is the only person who could influence her and since Max already cut ties with the Circle, he could convince her to turn against us."

"Have you ever thought that Max was what has been keeping Bethany here this whole time?" Mark questioned, earning a confused look from Kaitlin, "Did you really think Bethany worked for the Circle just for the sake of it? If it wasn't for my threat to kill Max, Bethany would had turned against us a long time ago."

"But-"

"Everyone knows that Bethany hated Catherine and everything the Circle stood for," Mark continued, cutting Kaitlin off, "Catherine took advantage of her as a child and got her to do a lot of dirty deeds and everyone knows Bethany resented her for it. Why would she join us willingly after that? If it wasn't Catherine that insisted that she would be a dangerous enemy, but a great asset, then I wouldn't had to go through the lengths of blackmailing her our side.

"And you would be dead right now if Bethany didn't meet Max because you would had effectively ruin the only leverage that I had over her, so consider yourself lucky, but not for too long. I'm pretty sure Bethany is coming for you next."

Kaitlin scoffed, "I can take a little kid. You seem to forget that I am more than capable."

"Sure you are, but Bethany has long surpassed you, believe it or not. Don't delude yourself into thinking that you hold a candle against her."

"I don't understand why all of you think Bethany is better than me," Kaitlin argued, "If it wasn't for me, none of her tasks would had been successful. If you sent me to do the same tasks, I would had done it even better. At least my loyalty is guaranteed, you don't even know if Bethany is coming back or not."

"Oh she will," Mark answered nonchalantly, dismissing all of her claims, "And she's even better than she was two years ago. And I have an important task upon her return."

"Assign the task to me," Kaitlin demanded, "I'll have it done in two days."

"I don't want to argue with you anymore, so see your way out," Mark said, dismissing her with a wave of his hand. Kaitlin bit her lip in anger, to prevent herself from saying anything more and stomped her way out, making sure to slam the door shut to emphasize her anger. But Mark's lips remained curled up in a smile the entire time, completely unfazed by Kaitlin's antics.

Because Bethany was finally coming back and he could finally proceed with the full revival of the Circle.

"What makes you so sure she'll be back? It's already been a week and a half," his bodyguard asked him one afternoon.

"Watch."

Three days later, Bethany showed up at his doorsteps, looking worse for wear, but very much alive, and very much not part of a figment of his imagination.

"Glad to see that you're still alive," Mark commented, earning a glare from Bethany.

"Quit with the bullshit, and give me my next assignment."

"As you know, there's going be a rally organized by Senator Hunters in four days in Washington D.C. Amirah and her family will be there in support for his presidential run. You know what to do; it's time to finish what the Circle started five years ago."

Much to Mark's satisfaction, there was no change in expression on Bethany's face when he told her about her mission, to kill a girl who she spent two years as her best friend. No attachments was good.

"All of them?" Bethany asked, her voice detached and devoid of emotion.

"Every last one of them."

"I understand. I know what I have to do."

* * *

 **A/N: Hi guys!**

 **Sorry for the late update; I was super busy the past week, so I wasn't able to update on Friday! Sorry for the kinda filler chapter, but it's building up for the next chapter(I promise will be action packed) and I still wanted to incorporate the side characters now that Bethany is no longer at Gallagher.**

 **Anyways, let me know what you think! As always, thank you for reading!**

 **Until next time!**

 **-MM**


	10. Chapter 10

After finishing her conversation with Abby, who was already sweeping the entire stadium for potential threats, Macey hung up the phone and tossed a glance over to Amy, who sat perfectly straight in the seat of the car, staring out the window, watching the trees pass by. Her hands were folded neatly in her lap and a small smile was present on her and Macey couldn't find any trace of nervousness or anxiety in her expression or posture. Amy was the picture of a calm, graceful princess.

Aside from herself, there were three other Secret Service operatives sitting in the bulletproof SUV, all with their hands resting on their weapons, ready to react in a split second if necessary, save for the driver who deliberately took the back roads like they planned three days ago.

Macey remembered herself being in the same predicament, except she hadn't been happy about it and she made sure everyone knew it. Macey hated the constant shadows that followed her, all of the seemingly unnecessary precautions that the secret service took every time, and how Abby insisted on following her everywhere even though Macey was at Gallagher, one of the safest places in the world. So Macey was prepared to deal with Amy's attitude and protests, but she got none of what she had expected. Instead, Amy went along with everything that Macey told her to do and accepted everything that the Secret Service was doing without any questions or protests.

And Macey admired her for it.

In the comms unit, the security detail at the stadium reported that Senator Hunter's crew had already arrived, as well the crew that CIA sent as backup. In her ear, Macey heard Agent Reeves checking up on how far away Amy's family was away from the stadium, before questioning Amy's status.

"Ten minutes out, sir," Macey replied, pressing the button on her comms before letting it go when she finished speaking. Agent Reeves grunted in acknowledgement before checking up on the rest of the squads. Abby's team: to sweep the area for potential sniper positions and block them off. Agent Brenton's team: to sweep the stadium for any bombs or potential threats. Agent Briggs' team: to ID everyone that was attending and search for weapons on them. Agent Carson's team: to make sure the backroom was all clear and was in charge of the Hunter family's safety.

The CIA team lead by Agent Townsend was purely there for backup purposes in the event the Circle made a move despite all of their precautions. Macey knew they were banking on the Circle showing up, so they could subdue some Circle members, but Macey hated to think that Amy and her family was bait for the CIA's scheme. Except they were and Macey was pretty sure that Amy knew it.

"Did my family already arrive?" Amy asked, breaking the silence for the first time during the tense car ride. She turned her head away from the window to look straight at Macey.

"Almost," Macey answered, "Don't worry, they're in good hands."

"I see," Amy said quietly, lowering her head to stare into her lap.

"What's wrong? You know you can tell me anything," Macey asked, recognizing that something was bothering Amy from the way she wrung her hands repeatedly. For a few moments, Amy didn't answer, nor did she look like she registered Macey's concern. Instead, her hand left her lap and onto the seat next to her, where she began tapping her fingers.

It took Macey three seconds to recognize that Amy was tapping in morse code.

 _Morse code?_

 _Can't trust everyone here,_ Amy tapped back.

 _Everyone ID confirmed before this mission,_ Macey responded, knowing that the extensive process she had to go through before she was deemed to be loyal to the CIA. Besides, all of the men besides her had been in the Secret Service for many more years than Macey had. But, Macey supposed, if the CIA had moles for so many years, then it wasn't entirely impossible that the Secret Service wouldn't have moles of their own.

 _Tell you when we are alone,_ Amy responded, and retracted her hand back into her lap, signalling that the conversation was over. Just as well, because Macey's focus was back onto the comms that was buzzing into her ear about Amy's family's arrival to the stadium and that the final sweeps were completed. The first wave of people were currently making their way into the stadium.

"McHenry, we're here," the driver said, parking at a side entrance that the Secret Service had agreed upon as their mode of entrance a couple days ago. Macey nodded towards the driver and motioned for Amy to wait for her signal, while she was the first to slip out of the door. Eyeing the empty area, Macey concluded there was no one nearby although she still felt uneasy in such an open area. She went up to the thick metal door, knocking on the door four times in succession before waiting for five seconds, then knocking again twice and slapping the door with the palm of her hand once.

"Identity," called a muffled voice from the other side of the door, after Macey completed the sequence of knocks.

"Peacock," Macey called back. A few seconds after, the door opened a crack and a pair of eyes peeked out from the crack. Macey nodded at the operative before holding up four fingers, motioning to the other agents in the car that they were ready to proceed. Originally, they had agreed upon that two agents would escort Amy to the entrance from the car once Macey gave the all clear signal, but after her conversation with Amy, Macey didn't trust them. When Macey met the three of them halfway, one of the operatives shot Macey a questioning glance, but didn't comment on the matter. The other had a stoic expression plastered on his face as he stared rigidly ahead, not sweeping the perimeter with his eyes like Macey and the other guy was doing. Not so subtly, Macey inserted herself in between Amy and the stoic operative as she ushered Amy through the door.

"I'll take it from here," Macey said, addressing the two men behind her. The two of them nodded before joining forces with the other Secret Service members who were stationed all around the stadium.

Rather than taking Amy directly to the backroom where she was suppose to meet up with her uncle, aunt, and cousins as well as the Hunter family, Macey pulled Amy into a hidden corner in the backroom, where she had stumbled upon a few days ago when she did the preliminary check of the stadium. A quick sweep of the area told Macey that the area was completely devoid of any bugs or cameras.

"It's safe now," Macey said, in Arabic as a precaution.

"The Circle is here," Amy said in Arabic as well, "That guy in the car…"

"I know," Macey acknowledged, "Should had known that the Circle would find a way to plant moles everywhere. But what were you concerned about earlier? Just the guy or something else as well?"

"It's a crazy theory and I've been thinking about it all last week," Amy started, "But I think the Circle bought over my uncle. Since my father died and my uncle took over the throne, they haven't been all that interested in me. In fact, they seemed content to leave me at Gallagher and out of the way so I couldn't contest them for the throne. But why did they want me to appear now? Everyone has already forgotten about me, so my appearance doesn't help their publicity. The only theory I could come up with was that they're working with the Circle to get rid of me."

"How is your relationship with your uncle?"

"Not close. We've met a couple of times but for the most part, I've been in America all of my life. Everytime I'm around my aunt, she gives off this vibe that she doesn't want me to be there. I think they're afraid that I would contest them for the crown one day," Amy responded, "But I don't even want the crown. I just want to be normal."

"So what do you plan on doing now?"

"Act normal. Maybe I'm overthinking everything and they only have good intentions."

"No," Macey countered, "A rule of CoveOps: your first instinct is probably a right one. I'll take care of this; don't worry."

"I'm not worried," Amy said, smiling slightly, "I trust you."

Macey lead Amy to where the rest of the crew was waiting. Upon seeing Amy, the Queen reached out to hug her, while rambling on about how Amy had grown so much. With a fake smile plastered on her face, Amy reciprocated the hug, wrapping stiff arms around her aunt while answering all of her aunt's questions. When the Queen released Amy, the Queen turned towards her husband and began asking him a spiel of questions, varying from isn't Amirah a beauty to aren't you glad to see her again? With each question, the King merely nodded, forcing a slight smile on his face.

"Hello, I'm Amirah," Amy introduced to herself to Senator Hunter, extending a hand outward with all of the poise of a Princess. Senator Hunter took her hand and replied with his own pleasantries, before introducing his wife and his seventeen year old son who exuded the same amount of charisma of a politician, if not more. Like father, like son.

Despite barely sparing a glance at the politician's son, Macey couldn't help but notice that his gaze remained riveted on her, only tearing his eyes away to address Amy, but after introductions were finished, he not so subtly glanced over at her again. Sure, Macey was used to the stares from boys of all ages, but one politician's son was enough for her.

"Oh and who is this?" the Queen asked, gesturing at Macey.

"This is Macey McHenry," Amy began, situating herself by Macey, "She's my bodyguard." At the mention of the word 'bodyguard', disdain was written all over the Queen's face as well as the Senator's wife. The two princes were too busy actively ignoring everything that was happening around them to register Amy's words. The King's face remained stoic, but the way he angled his body away from her, showed his disapproval towards Macey. The politician's son became more enraptured at the mention of her job, while Senator Hunter seemingly remained unaffected.

"Woman should not have to lower themselves down to doing extensive labor," the Queen spoke, earning a mortified look from Amy, "I can introduce to you a husband if you would like."

Silence seemed to piece the air among them for a few seconds before Amy laughed awkwardly in an attempt to diffuse the tension in the air, "Don't take her words to heart, Macey. She's a bit traditional, that's all."

Macey prided herself for being able to maintain her calm in that moment and forced out a smile, but the Senator's wife added fuel to fire.

"But she isn't wrong," the Senator's wife added, "Are you even capable of protecting Amirah dear? Perhaps you find a job that's more suited for you."

Even though Gallagher had drilled into her head a long time ago that people tended to underestimate them because of their gender, Macey still couldn't help but bristle at the Senator's wife's words even though it wasn't the first time she heard it and it wouldn't be the last.

The Senator's wife looked like she wanted to go on, but Senator Hunter placed a hand on her shoulder, effectively silencing her. He tossed Macey an apologetic smile, but all was not forgiven in her eyes. Lucky for them, it was Macey standing here today, a politician's daughter in her own right and trained to keep her emotions in check at all times. Macey chuckled to herself at the thought of Bex going off on them, in her British accent.

"You should make last minute preparations," Macey informed them, "Event is starting in ten." Senator Hunter nodded at her words and ushered his family near the entrance to the stage, where two Secret Service members were stationed. The King and Queen followed closely behind the Hunter family, with the two Princes lagging slightly behind. The Queen snapped at them to straighten their postures and to stop dragging their feet and Macey could had sworn she saw the younger one roll his eyes before doing her bidding.

"Sorry for what my aunt said," Amy said, making no move to follow the rest of her family. The Queen finally noticed her absence and hollered at her in Arabic to hurry up, to which Amy responded that she would in just a minute, earning appalled look from the Queen. Amy brushed it off before turning her attention back onto Macey.

"Don't worry about it," Macey responded, dismissing her apology with a wave of her hand, "Remember what I told you. If you ever see the signal, run no matter what."

"I understand."

"Good. Be careful," Macey said before pushing Amy towards her family. Amy gave her a firm nod before turning her attention onto her waiting family, while Macey took the chance to sneak into the stadium and blend in with the rest of the ralliers. Wearing one of her old outfits from one of the many rallies she attended, a striped blue and white sweater over a white blouse with white capri pants and a red bow in her hair, Macey fit right in with the rest of the crowd.

Macey's eyes sweeped the stadium, easily spotting the Secret Service and CIA agents that were trying to blend in with the crowd, but their postures were all too stiff for Macey's liking and their hands continued to hover over the waistband of their pants, where Macey knew they kept their guns. Macey spotted Abby near the gates, dressed as a Secret Service member and began making her way to her to warn Abby about the Circle, even though Macey was fairly certain that no one came here believing that nothing was going to happen.

By the time Macey reached Abby, Abby was heavily engrossed in a conversation with a civilian man, who Macey knew was Townsend in disguise. From an outsider view, it would seem that Abby was giving Townsend some directions, with the way her arms swept out in the general area of the stadium and pointing at certain areas. Catching the tail end of Abby's last sentence in Farsi confirmed that she was pointing out all the possible sniper locations.

"You're not in position," Abby commented after finally registering Macey's presence. Townsend gave a slight head nod in greeting.

"I wasn't assigned one," Macey countered, knowing that wasn't what Abby meant, "Just wanted to check if everything was all clear."

"Double checked the area; it should be all good," Abby replied.

Out of the corner of her eyes, Macey saw a man in civilian clothing inch his way towards the three of them into hearing distance, but didn't approach any further. Judging from his demeanor, Macey concluded that he was an agent but couldn't understand why he was lingering around in the area as all of them were ordered to keep moving during the entire rally.

"They're here," Macey tossed out to Abby before turning abruptly on her heels and walking away from the two of them. Just as Macey predicted, the man faltered for a few moments before deciding to remain put rather than follow her. Townsend left Abby and headed in the opposite direction that Macey had, deliberately bumping shoulders with the man who had been eavesdropping. Townsend muttered his apologies before continuing towards the seats. Abby pressed her hand on her comms and began relaying instructions as the last of the audience entered the stadium.

"Good afternoon everyone. Thank you for taking the time to come out to my rally. My name is Richard Hunter and I am honored to be able to stand in front of you today and introduce my family and my good friends, the royalty of Caspia," Senator Hunter's voice boomed through the microphone, earning cheers from the crowd as everyone stepped onto stage one by one. Macey's mouth was open, chanting Senator Hunter's name along with the crowd, but her eyes were riveted on Amy, who bowed elegantly as Senator Hunter introduced her and waved to the crowd.

A slew of reporters were pushing their way towards the stage, anxious to get the best angle for their report and asking Senator Hunter numerous questions, but Senator Hunter ignored them and continued on with his speech.

"I know the tensions in the Middle East has always been a topic of debate, so one of my promises as president is to mend those tensions and I've started with reaching out to my Middle Eastern ties," Senator Hunter announced, gesturing to the King and Queen, who waved at the crowd.

Macey tore her eyes away from the stage upon seeing a small figure weave her way expertly through the crowd. Macey began to follow her, noting that she couldn't have been more than five feet tall and was completely devoid of weapons. Either that or she was good at concealing them. As the tiny girl made her way through the crowd, strands of dark brown hair fell from out of her Vote for Hunter baseball cap. Dark brown, the same shade as Bethany's. Upon making that connection, Macey sped up, muttering apologies left and right as she bumped into people but most of them were too busy listening to Senator Hunter's speech to pay her any attention. As the girl bounded down the stairs to the field, Macey broke out into a run, eliminating the distance between the two of them.

The girl spun around, gasping in shock as she registered Macey's presence right behind her and side stepped out of Macey's reach.

"Why are you following me?" the girl asked, her brown eyes wide in innocence. Macey never met Bethany in person and all she had was blurry pictures that they manage to catch of Bethany on camera to go off of, but Macey was fairly confident that the girl standing in front of her was Bethany.

"Don't pretend that you're innocent," Macey stated, ready to subdue her if she tried to run.

"What do you mean?" the girl asked, continuing to give Macey the wide-eyed look, "I was going to the bathroom. Is that not allowed or what?"

The girl pointed to the bathrooms that were about thirty feet behind Macey, "See?"

Macey clenched her jaw, unsure of what her next move should be. All Macey had was a gut instinct and despite all the beliefs about trusting her instinct, she would be given hell if this girl turned out to be a civilian, so Macey went against all of the commands that her brain was telling her and rigidly stayed in position as the small girl brushed past her to head towards the bathroom. Macey felt her hand brush against hers, inserting a piece of paper into the palm of Macey's hands as the girl continued her way towards the bathroom.

Checking to make sure no one was watching her, friend or foe, Macey unfurled the tiny piece of paper to see a black circle drawn with sharpie. A circle? The Circle! Macey whipped her head around only to find that the girl was nowhere to be seen.

As Macey took two steps forward to survey the area, a loud blast behind her shook the entire stadium, leading Macey to stumble but she caught herself in time. By the time Macey turned around, all she could see was the entire stage up in flames and smoke while the ralliers chaotically began to crowd towards the exits. The Secret Service and CIA agents took on the task of directing the civilians towards the stadiums, even the ones that Macey suspected were moles.

In her ear, Agent Reeves was barking out orders to evacuate everyone from the stadium and be on the lookout for Circle members, but Macey ignored all of that. Instead, Macey pushed her way through the crowd and ran across the field to the stage where the air was getting thick was smoke. Holding an arm over her face, Macey circled the area the area, hoping that she would magically see Amy stumble out of the fire somewhere. Macey tried to get into the backroom, but the force of the blast had reduced that entire section into nothing but rubble and debrief.

"McHenry, don't just stand there!" Townsend hollered. Reluctantly, Macey headed away from the fire, following Townsend towards one of the side exits.

"Amy's dead," Macey lamented to Townsend, feeling her eyes tear up at the mention of Amy's death.

"Now isn't the time for that, McHenry. You need to get back to Gallagher now," Townsend commanded, tossing a set of keys at Macey's direction. Macey deftly caught the keys with one hand and headed for the entrance only to realize that Townsend wasn't following her anymore.

"You're not coming?" Macey questioned.

"The moles finally decided to expose themselves; I'm going to go clean the mess up. Find Soloman and tell him everything that has happened. He'll tell you what to do," Townsend ordered. Macey nodded before slipping out the exit with her fingers wrapped tightly around the set of keys.

Macey didn't check her surroundings as she made a beeline to the nondescript vehicle parked behind a tree. Joe Soloman would had called her sloppy, but right then Macey didn't care. Numbly, Macey slipped into the driver's seat and turned on the ignition of the car, before driving down the roads she had passed by so many times before. The sound of the blast continued ringing in Macey's ears and the sight of the fire was branded into her memories.

Amy had been standing on that stage. Amy, whom Macey told her to believe that Macey would be able to protect her. Amy, who fearlessly walked onto that stage, not knowing whether she was going to make it out alive. Amy, who Macey had failed to protect. Amy, a sixteen year old Gallagher Girl, one of her sisters.

Tears slipped down Macey's cheeks and she quickly wiped them away, hating the foreign feeling on her face. But the tears kept coming and eventually Macey didn't bother anymore and just let the tears flow freely down her face.

For the first time in her life, Macey McHenry felt like a failure.

And she could do nothing but bawl her eyes out during the entire ride back to Gallagher.

* * *

 **A/N: I think I'm just gonna leave this here...**

 **As always, thanks for reading and let me know what you think.**

 **Until next time!**

 **-MM**


	11. Chapter 11

Since meeting the snobby politician's daughter during her sophomore year at Gallagher, Cammie had never seen Macey look so unkempt, not even when she first woke up in the mornings. And now there was Macey, who had entered into the Grand Hall moments earlier, ignoring all of Cammie's cries as Macey made a beeline to the Headmistress' office, not noticing that Cammie was following after her.

"Macey, wait!" Cammie yelled, picking up the pace to eliminate the distance between the two of them and placed a hand roughly on Macey's shoulder, halting her movements. Macey whipped her head around, letting Cammie see her smeared mascara and fresh tears that continued to stream down her face in full force. Cammie's heart broke a little after seeing her friend's distraught state.

"It's my fault," Macey sobbed, "I promised Amy that I would keep her safe."

"There wasn't anything you could have done differently," Cammie stated, attempting to console her friend, knowing exactly what it felt like after a failed operation, "You can't blame yourself."

"I feel like such a failure," Macey sobbed, "Thanks to the news reporters, the whole nation knows that I am one."

"You're not a failure!" Cammie admonished, "Who was the one who managed to finish the entire six years of Gallagher Academy curriculum in three years? Who was the one who came up with the brilliant plan of breaking Preston Winters out of prison? Who was the one who thwarted an assassination attempt on President Denvers last year?"

"That doesn't mean I didn't fail to protect Amy," Macey replied, wiping away her tears with the sleeve of her sweater, not caring that her mascara stained the fabric of her sweater, "I need to talk to your mom and Soloman."

Cammie followed Macey to her mother's office, wishing that she could do something to make Macey feel better. Watching her friend's head hang low after knocking on the door to her mom's office was so strange since Cammie had only ever seen Macey's head held high. But after Cammie's own failed mission two years ago, she understood exactly how Macey felt and there were no words that could make it better. Only time could heal the wound.

Macey and Cammie filed into her mom's office after she opened the door. Unsurprisingly, Soloman and Liz were already there, as if they were expecting Macey all along. When Liz saw Macey, she shot her an encouraging smile, but that only led Macey to plop down on the couch, thoroughly defeated.

"She's dead," Macey stated flatly, looking down into her lap rather than at the rest of them.

"Ms. McHenry, we need more than that to-" Mr. Soloman started, but Macey cut him off.

"It was the Circle," Macey explained, with a slight quiver in her voice but she was doing well in masking her grief, "Moments before the explosion happened, I saw a girl in the crowd and I followed her. When I caught up with her, she denied all of my accusations and claimed that she was only going to the bathroom. Since I didn't have any proof, I let her go, but when she passed by me, she placed this piece of paper in my hand." At this point, Macey dug into the pocket of her pants and pulled out a tiny, folded square piece of paper, passing it over to Liz. Liz meticulously unfolded the piece of paper, almost as if she was afraid of damaging it before showing everyone else what was on the paper. A black circle.

"When I finally made the connection and turned back to go after the girl, she was already gone," Macey continued, as Liz examined the paper under the light, holding it at various angles, "And then the explosion happened and there was no one left alive that was on or near that stage as far as I could tell."

"That girl…" Mr. Soloman prompted, trailing off to see if Macey was following his train of thought.

"I'm pretty sure it was Bethany but I couldn't be sure since I never seen her in person. If it was really her, then I let her slip through my fingers and I don't think I could ever forgive myself for it," Macey finished.

"It wasn't a one man job though," Cammie pointed, "There was too much planning involved for it to be just Bethany."

"Cammie is right," Liz chimed in," According to her files, her preferred method of assassination is shooting, not an explosion which is why we took extra care to sweep for possible sniper locations. So Bethany definitely had help."

"There's moles in the Secret Service," Macey revealed, "But I couldn't be certain. They were there the whole time so I don't know when they had time to plant the bomb. Abby personally checked the stage herself before the event started."

"Liz, I need you to confirmation the identification of the owner of the paper," Mr. Soloman commanded, earning a nod from Liz and in the next moment, she was out of the door, "I'm going to talk to Rachel and the two of us will head down to the sight to investigate. Cammie, you're in charge of Gallagher while the two of us are gone. And Macey? It's not your fault." Mr. Soloman left after earning a forced nod of agreement from Macey, presumably to go find Cammie's mom.

Cammie wished she could do more, but she contented herself just sitting by Macey's side for the next few hours, lending her a shoulder as Macey cried herself to sleep. Her heart broke bit by bit as she watched such as a strong woman crumble right before her eyes.

 _Bethany Cavan..._ Cammie thought, _I will end you for once and for all. For Macey. For Amy. For Gallagher._

* * *

When Liz barged into the Headmistress' office two days later, Cammie and Macey both looked up from the papers and tapes respectively, trying to piece together exactly where they had slipped up that day. Macey's eyes were still rimmed with red, but the tears had long dried up.

"Is your mom and Mr. Soloman not back yet?" Liz asked, bent over trying to catch her breath, tossing a folder onto the table before plopping down onto the couch. Macey wordlessly handed her a glass of water which Liz took and downed the entirety of the glass in one gulp.

"No, did you find something?" Cammie responded, moving to sit on the couch with the two of them.

"So you know how Mr. Soloman assigned me to see if I can find any clues on the paper right? So I ran a whole bunch of tests and did a lot of research and-"

"Liz, get to the point," Macey interjected, cutting off Liz's ramble. Liz wore a sheepish look on her face.

"I found a clue!" Liz blurted, shuffling through the contents of the folder before pulling out a photo and sliding it down the table, "There's writing on it."

Cammie lifted the photo from off the table, holding it under the light, but angled so that Macey could also look at it. After two minutes of examining the photo, Cammie placed it back down on the table.

"It's coded."

"Of course," Liz agreed, "Bethany isn't sloppy. The reason why it took me so long was because I spent the last two days trying to crack her code."

"So it was her?" Macey asked.

"Was there ever any doubt?" Liz casually retorted, "Her fingerprints were all over it like she wasn't even trying to hide it. And the fact that she showed up in front of you Macey, it's like Bethany wanted us to know it was her."

"So what does it say?" Cammie prodded, her voice filled with urgency.

"It's an address."

"A trap," Cammie immediately responded.

"A lead," Macey countered, a small smile forming on her face for the first time in the last three days.

Liz pulled out a set of keys, dangling it in front of the two of them.

"Just like the good old days huh?" Macey commented.

"Except we don't have to sneak out this time."

* * *

Grant tugged on his collar uncomfortably for the fifth time in the past thirty minutes, earning an eye roll from Bex, who much rather be stuck in a tux rather than a tight dress which left little room to store weapons and four inch heels which seriously hindered her ability to run. Despite all of that, Bex hadn't uttered a single word of complaint, especially since she was doing Macey a favor. Like a true sister, Bex was the first to jump on the mission, after hearing that the Director was about to assign it to Macey. Following the happenings at the rally, Bex figured that Macey wouldn't be in the mood for another mission and certainly not if it concerned attending a charity gala.

"Why did you have to drag me along?" Grant whispered, clinking his glass of champagne against Bex's before swallowing the entire contents of the glass.

"Would you rather that I go with Nick?" Bex hissed back, plastering a fake smile on her face as she nodded to the Simmons, the host of the charity ball tonight. Looping an arm through Grant, Bex subtly dragged him over to the champagne table, all while surveying all of the attendees for their target.

David Buchanan. Rumored to be affiliated with the Circle as their main point of contact for dealings of illegal weapons. Also rumored to be the source of the bomb that went off at the Hunter rally a couple days ago.

Grant didn't get a chance to answer Bex's question as his attention was stolen away by Samuel Fredericks, a prominent business member in the pharmaceutical industry. As Grant fell into easy conversation with Fredricks, Bex took the chance to survey their surroundings, noting seven obvious exits, four hidden exits, eleven possible positions for a sniper to hide, and no David Buchanan to be seen.. Bex nodded and smiled all at the right times while mulling over the possible implications. Fifty five minutes had passed since the guests began to trickle in and mingle amongst each other. In five minutes, the gala would officially start, which meant that they would return to their seats, leaving less opportunity to corner David Buchanan. In exactly five minutes, David Buchanan would not longer be considered to arrive fashionably late, but LATE.

Perhaps CIA intel was wrong, Bex never really trusted the CIA especially not with all the scandals of there being CIA moles, but there was no reason to send them on a wild goose chase.

Unless...the Circle wanted to finish the job.

Macey should had been the one on the job, along with Nick, both of whom were present at the rally. A trap, to finish what they started.

Subtly, Bex tugged on Grant's arm twice, their agreed upon signal to make their getaway. With an apology and a sincere smile, Grant fed Fredericks some excuse before allowing Bex to drag him away from the pair and into corner, out of earshot of the rest of the guests.

While Bex conveyed her theory to Grant, Grant's mind was turning, but he couldn't quite find it in him to believe her. Not that Bex was wrong, because she could very well be right, but it didn't seem like a characteristic Circle move. The Circle was never about feeding false information, but rather gathering all of the information that they could.

"You're thinking too much into it," Grant stated, nodding his head towards the entrance. Bex followed his line of sight to see the man in question stroll in at exactly six o'clock, handing off his outer coat and hat to the doorman while casually strolling in alone, capturing the entire of the entire room. David Buchanan made a beeline towards the Simmons pair, who immediately greeted Buchanan once he was within earshot. The three exchanged pleasantries while the rest of the crowd began meandering towards their assigned tables. Bex and Grant followed suit, but remained an eye on Buchanan.

Buchanan was seated two tables away from Bex and Grant, right at the center with the Simmons which left little opportunity for the two of them to approach him so the two of them bided their time dining, talking to the other guests seated at the table, and listening to presenter as they auctioned off items one by one. At the right times, the two of them clapped, shot encouraging glances when they hesitated to bid upwards, and continued keeping an eye on Buchanan, but never once did they open their mouths to shout a bid and neither did Buchanan.

An hour into the auction, Bex was getting restless and was glad when the presenter announced it was the last item for the night. A small woman brought the item up to the stage, giving the presenter a slight nod as she took the position behind the podium, barely tall enough to reach the microphone.

"Good evening everyone," the woman began, her voice betraying her youthful looks. By appearance, the woman could pass off as middle schooler, yet her voice conveyed maturity.

"My name is Elizabeth Caves. This necklace is a heirloom passed down from my great grandfather to my grandmother, then to my mother. Although it carries a lot of sentimental value to my family, I feel that it is time that I am to move on from the past and start a new era, just like Circle Corporation is doing. All of the proceeds for this necklace will be donated to the local orphanage, so please, bid with your heart and not your mind."

All at once, numbers began to float around the room, with some of the people sitting next to Bex and Grant whispering in hushed voices of whether they should join the bidding. But it seemed that this item got the most attention, which made sense because usually the best items were auctioned off last, but Bex and Grant couldn't fathom why a necklace could garner so much interest. Especially if it was only a heirloom, which only carried sentimental value to a family.

"Are you interested?" Bex asked, leaning over to the woman on her right. The woman had the audacity to scoff at Bex's question.

"Please, who isn't interested? That necklace is called Circle of Cavan. Story has it that once Elizabeth's great grandfather had possession of the necklace, his business immediately took off and every generation after that was successful in the business field. Everyone wants to get their hands on it for generations, so I can't believe Elizabeth is auctioning off such a precious commodity."

Bex nodded, grateful that the woman had turned her attention back to the auction because Bex's head was reeling from the latest revelation. Bex quickly relayed her latest findings to Grant, who shared a knowing look with her.

A possible lead to the Circle or Elizabeth was the Circle.

The numbers continued until it was finally down to one voice. When the presenter counted to two, another voice cut in, doubling the previous offer. All eyes swung to the center table, to the origin of the voice, to see it was David Buchanan who was leaning against the back of his chair, casually sipping his champagne like he didn't just toss out five hundred million for a necklace. The presenter took a few moments to regain her composure and began the count; this time with no one else interrupting her. She announced that David Buchanan was the winner of that auction and Bex could had almost sworn she saw a smug smile on his face for a split second.

"Thank you," Elizabeth said, her eyes tearing up, "I'm sure my family's legacy will live within you." After Elizabeth stepped offstage, the presenter announced that the guests were free to mingle and continue eating.

"That was a weird thing to say," Grant whispered to Bex, while cutting his pork loin.

"Why do I get the feeling that she's implying something else…?" Bex questioned, mulling over Elizabeth's words over and over again, wishing that Liz was here. Liz would spew a lot of nonsense for sure, but at least some of her nonsense ended up being plausible.

"Doesn't this confirm that Buchanan is affiliated with the Circle if he wanted the necklace that badly?"

"Doesn't that frame everyone else too?" Bex countered, "Almost everyone in the room placed a bid for it."

"Buchanan on the move," Grant whispered, already getting out of his seat and pulling Bex with him. Muttering some excuses about needing to go to the bathroom and a phone call, both of them escaped from their table and towards Buchanan who was slipping down a hallway, completely unnoticed unless it was Grant and Bex, who had been keeping an eye on him all night. Grant and Bex followed him down the hallway, ducking around the corner when Buchanan casually tossed a glance over his shoulder. When Buchanan made it to the end of the hallway, there was a tiny silhouette waiting for him, playing with the ribbon of the box that she held in her hand.

"Elizabeth, is that what people are calling you these days?" Buchanan spoke, his voice echoing through the silent hallway. Grant ducked his head out to survey the interaction, but Bex yanked him backwards, signalling to him it was too risky, even though she was dying to know who the silhouette was.

"What I am called is none of your concern," the woman responded airly; Bex recognized that the voice was the exact same one that had been on the stage. Elizabeth Caves. There was somewhere else that Bex had heard the voice before, but she couldn't quite place it.

"I did everything that was asked of me," Buchanan stated, "I expect payment in full."

"Did you?" Elizabeth questioned, "You drew too much attention. Bidding at that price is outrageous."

"I didn't want anyone to place another bid. I have no interest in wasting my time with a bidding game," Buchanan argued, annoyance present in his voice.

"Here," Elizabeth said. Bex and Grant heard the crinkling of paper being exchanged between the two of them.

"What is this? This is only half of the amount that we agreed on," Buchanan said, anger present in his voice.

"Half assed job gets half of the pay," Elizabeth replied calmly, "The bomb went off a minute earlier than planned so we ended up losing some of our men too. And with your performance tonight, the CIA are bound to come knocking up our door again and I'll have to clean up your mess, again. I'm already being generous in giving you anything at all. Edwards would not be as lenient as I am."

"You!" Buchanan shouted, with his fist raised and pulled back, ready to clock Elizabeth in the face, but stopped short when Elizabeth didn't make any move to dodge or stop him. Instead, she stare impassively at him, crossing her arms over her chest almost in a mocking manner as if to ask what he could do.

"If you take this up to Edwards, I can guarantee you that it will be a long, torturous death for you," Elizabeth said, "Take it or leave it." Buchanan stared at the crumpled piece of paper for a few moments before yanking it out of Elizabeth's hands and tucking it into the pocket of his suit pants.

"This is the last time I'm working for you," Buchanan spat in Elizabeth's face. Elizabeth blinked twice before raising the sleeve of her blouse to wipe his spit off of her face, totally unfazed by his declaration.

"Oh, we can't have that," Elizabeth said mockingly, pulling out a knife from under her sleeve and hurling it straight at Buchanan, sinking into her intended target. Bex opened her mouth in shock as she watched the scene, earning Grant's attention, resulting in him hovering over her to see what the commotion was. Buchanan's body fell to the ground with a thump; his mouth and eyes still wide open in shock as the blood began to stain his white button up shirt. Elizabeth leaned over the dead body, retrieving the knife before using a handkerchief to wipe off the blood before tucking the knife in her sleeves again.

"Don't feel too bad," Elizabeth said to the body, while digging out the paper from his pockets, "If I didn't get to you, you would had suffered more in the CIA interrogation room, isn't that right Rebecca and Grant?" With that, Elizabeth's head shot upwards and her eyes were fixated right at them, almost like she knew they were there all along. Scratch that, she probably knew that they were there all along.

"Who are you?" Grant asked, his voice on edge. Elizabeth stood up, wiping off her hands with the handkerchief before tossing it onto Buchanan's dead body.

"I go by a lot of names," Elizabeth replied, smiling at the sight of their agitation, "Perhaps a better question would be whether I just did you a service by getting rid of another Circle member or if I just cut off your information source. Don't worry, I was just saving you time. Buchanan wouldn't had talked."

"What's your purpose?" Bex asked, tired of playing Elizabeth's games.

"I just want to know if you were going to let me go peacefully or if we are going to resort to action. I advise the former if you know what's good for both of you."

"There's two of us here and one of you. Don't try to act haughty," Grant responded, inching forward. Elizabeth took a step backwards, holding her hands outwards in a "I come in peace" sign, smiling.

"I think you're the one who is being arrogant, thinking that you can take me on simply because I am outnumbered," Elizabeth responded, "But I'll humor you and let you make the first move.

"Don't patronize me. You're not even worthy of CIA's attention," Grant snapped back.

"Oh, so the fact that I am on CIA's most wanted list is a mistake? That's better for me then," Elizabeth responded, letting out a lighthearted laugh.

That was the moment when it finally clicked for Bex. She finally remembered where she had heard this voice before.

"You're Bethany Cavan," Bex said, finally piecing together this voice with the voice in the recording that was left in Dr. Baron's office.

Bethany clapped slowly, "At least one of you has some brains."

"Why did you kill Princess Amirah?" Bex questioned, ignoring Bethany's sarcastic comment, feeling her pent up rage begin to surface, "Wasn't she your friend?"

"Princess? Is that what you guys call her?" Bethany scoffed, "She was nothing more than another Gallagher Girl to me, not at all royalty like you all make her out to be. So she was what you would call... _collateral damage."_

It took everything in her and Grant to hold her back for Bex to not lunge at Bethany right then and there, consequences be damned.

"It's time for me to leave. See you around, perhaps," Bethany stated, with a parting wave. Bethany confidentally strolled past Grant and Bex, who was still shaking in anger, but breathing heavily in an effort to control her rage. Right as Bethany past Bex, she purposely bumped into Bex, slipping a piece of paper into her curled fist.

"A consolation prize," Bethany tossed over her shoulder as she slinked down the hallway and eventually disappeared from both of their lines of sight, leaving Grant and Bex to wonder how a sixteen year old girl was getting the best of them, time and time again.

* * *

 **A/N: Hi guys.**

 **Sorry for the late update, but it seems I have lost inspiration for writing this story. I know exactly how the story is going to end; however, I am having a hard time getting to that point. This was the last chapter I had written, so I just wanted to post it so I could share it with you guys, if there is still anyone reading. :)**

 **So what this means for the future: updates will be sporadic depending on when/if I find inspiration again because I want to sit on this story for a while. If I decide that I will probably never find it again, I will write the ending chapter(s) so that at least you guys can see my vision for the ending to this story.**

 **Thank you guys for sticking with me! I hope to see you guys soon. :)**

 **-MM**


	12. Chapter 12

The entire car ride was silent save for Cammie's phone who rang an hour into the drive. Bex. Cammie promptly picked up the phone, listening to Bex's frazzled voice relay everything that had just happened. When Bex couldn't get the words out, Grant took over relaying the rest of the story, but hearing her best friend's shaking voice was enough for Cammie to deduce exactly what had happened. There wasn't many things that could rattle Bex's tough exterior, and not being in control of the situation was definitely one of them.

For the most part, Cammie stayed quiet and listened to Bex speak, with occasional acknowledgements that she was still on the other end of the line. With promises that they would reconvene at Gallagher Academy in a day's time, Cammie hung up on Bex, before turning to the other two girls.

"Bethany Cavan made an appearance during Bex's mission," Cammie began. Like trained operatives that they were, there was no indication of surprise or shock from Liz or Macey. Instead Liz's eyes were still trained on the road while Macey's eyes didn't open, even though Cammie knew she wasn't asleep.

"The CIA managed to trace the source of the bomb that went off at the rally to a man named David Buchanan. Their sources told them that David Buchanan would appear at a charity gala so they sent Bex and Grant to take him in for questioning, but Bethany killed him before they could even approach the man. As she left, Bethany left them a check."

"A check?" Liz questioned.

"The check that the Circle was suppose to give to Buchanan for his services," Cammie clarified, "Bex and Grant don't know why."

"To show that her motive for killing Buchanan wasn't simply to skimp out on their payment to him?" Liz offered.

"Both of you are missing the point," Macey interjected, "It doesn't matter why Bethany did it. We have another lead."

Liz's eyes lit up, "I can trace the check back to the company, then find the buyer, scan for fingerprints, examine the handwriting…"

"Exactly."

* * *

"It's too quiet," Macey whispered as she trudged through small forest of trees that surrounded Joe Solomon's cabin behind Cammie, who lead the way. After realizing that their surroundings were familiar, the three of them made the decision to park the car a mile away and cover the rest of the distance by foot, lest they attract any attention.

"Traps don't necessarily always involve humans," Liz whispered back from behind Macey, "Watch your step."

"But how does Bethany know about Joe's cabin?" Cammie questioned, taking another cautious step forward, motioning for the two of them to avoid the wire, "If it wasn't for D.C we wouldn't had known about it either."

Twenty more cautious steps later, the edge of the cabin came into view. Cammie motioned for both of them to stop and planted herself at the base of the tree trying to gauge the situation. But Cammie didn't get the chance to because she heard Liz's infamous "oopsy daisy" and immediately felt Macey ram into her, pushing both of them down onto the ground as a large branch came swinging their way with enough force that would had knocked a grown man out for hours.

"Liz," Macey hissed as she got off the ground, brushing away the dirt and leaves that clung to her clothes.

"Sorry," Liz squeaked as she carefully removed herself from the ground, careful to not set off anymore traps.

"There's no one here," Cammie announced, "That should had been enough of a commotion to alert them of our presence."

"Or they're biding their time in the cabin waiting for us," Macey countered, "We're going in?"

"We're going in," Cammie affirmed, "You take the right and I'll take the left. See if you can see anything through the windows. Liz, meet us at the back door." With two nods, all three of them were off, with Liz darting nimly towards the back door. Both Cammie and Macey planted themselves against the wooden walls of the cabin, slowly inching along the wall in opposite directions. When Cammie reached the first window, she attempted to peer through the tiny sliver that the curtain didn't cover, but wasn't able to see much beyond the wooden floor. Crawling her way past the window, Cammie saw Macey approaching Liz, shaking her head. Cammie moved to join them.

"Barge in?" Macey asked, her hand poised on the doorknob. Cammie nodded and held her breath as she watched Macey swing the door open, all of them ducking to the side in anticipation of bullets, but none came. Cammie peered into the doorway and saw that the cabin was completely empty. She slipped in, with Liz and Macey following suit.

Wordlessly, the three of them split up to scour all the rooms in the cabin. Ten minutes later, the three of them reconvened in the the living room, finding no traces of a clue or a lead.

"A dead lead," Macey huffed, plopping down onto the couch, "Maybe their mission is to divert our attention away from something else that's about to happen."

"The tapes," Cammie said, "Joe has cameras. We can see if anyone was ever here."

"There's no need," a new voice cut in as the front door swung open, immediately putting all three girls on guard, "I can tell you everything."

Macey's eyes widened and she pinched herself to make sure that she wasn't imagining that Amy was standing at the doorway.

"Amy?!" Macey exclaimed, jumping up from her position on the couch to cross the distance between them, pulling the younger girl into a hug, "You're still alive?"

"You thought that I was dead?" Amy questioned, "But it was a CIA agent that got me out of there and he told me to lay low for a few days and that someone would come get me when it was time to go back."

"CIA?" Cammie repeated, "Tell us everything from the beginning."

"Before I went on the stage, Macey told me to watch for the signal, so during the entire speech I was watching the Secret Service and CIA agents in case the signal came. Then I saw one of them drop their coffee cup, so I slipped off of the stage, which wasn't hard since no one was paying attention to me, and then I went backstage. A CIA agent met me backstage and he got me out of the stadium when I heard the explosion go off," Amy recounted, "And then he took me here and told me stay until someone came to get me. I've been here ever since."

"Do you know what that agent looked like?" Cammie asked.

"Not really, he had sunglasses on the whole time and he didn't say much."

"Amy, that guy wasn't CIA," Macey said, "We never got the memo that there was danger so if he was CIA, then he wouldn't had given the signal."

"What?" Amy asked, "Then who the hell was he and why did he save me?"

"He must have been a member of the Circle," Liz concluded, "Perhaps he wanted to keep you alive to use you as leverage over us or…"

"That's not possible," Amy cut in, "If that was the case, then I would be tied up so that I wouldn't have the chance to escape and they wouldn't had led you guys to come here. Why would they let you guys get to me first before they could?"

"A traitor in the Circle isn't entirely implausible. Joe was one," Cammie stated, "Then does that mean Bethany…"

"Bethany was involved?" Amy asked.

"She was the one who gave me the address to this place," Macey confessed, "At least I'm 90% sure that it was her."

"Let's go then," Amy announced.

"To where?"

"Our dead drop location. If we want answers, that's where we're going to find them."

* * *

Zachary Goode always prided himself in being the tailor, rather than the tailee. During his twenty four years, the only person who managed to successfully sneak up to him unnoticed was Joe Solomon, but that was expected since Solomon taught him everything he knew. Cammie most likely would had given him a run for his money if the CoveOps assignment during their sophomore year had been the other way around, but the answer to that would always remain a mystery. After dating Cammie for over five years, Zach knew her presence like the back of his hand.

Yet today, there was someone else who was about to join Solomon on the list of people who could successfully sneak up to him.

Zach was immediately tipped off when he heard the telltale sounds of the pebble scraping against the cobblestone streets of Rome, a couple meters behind him, too close for comfort. Yet within the bustling marketplace, Zach's ears honed in on the particular set of footsteps; each separated by a mere five milliseconds. After circling the marketplace once, with those set of footsteps readily still following him, Zach was able to confirm that he had a tail.

An obvious tail, which meant either this person was a fool or they wanted him to be aware of their presence.

Judging from the fact that she had no qualms about looking him in the eye when Zach finally decided to whirl around, Zach confirmed it was definitely the latter. Even with sunglasses covering up half of her face, Zach immediately knew who it was and cursed himself for not realizing it earlier, especially since he brushed off a nagging feeling of familiarity seven hours ago at the airport in Washington D.C. when he ran into the same girl as they boarded the plane.

Without another word, Zach turned and navigated the streets of Rome, ducking into the smaller alleyways, knowing that she would follow him. And follow him she did.

"Why are you following me?" Zach questioned, skipping all the pleasantries that Gallagher Academy instilled into him. If Madame Dabney saw his performance today, he would had definitely flunked out of Culture and Assimilation.

"Took you long enough," Bethany commented, slowing inching her way towards Zach. Despite all of his instincts to tell him to get away from that girl, Zach stood still, not wanting to give her the satisfaction of seeing her intimidation tactics working. "Considering you picked up that I was going after you so quickly that time at Gallagher, I expected better. I'm disappointed. First, Secret Service extraordinaire Macey McHenry fell into my trap, then kickass M16 agent Rebecca Baxter was shocked into letting me go. And now, Zachary Goode can't even pick up a tail from a sixteen year old girl?"

"You're no ordinary sixteen year old," Zach retorted, "Anyone who goes through Blackthorne curriculum wouldn't turn out to be an average spy."

"That's where you're wrong," Bethany pointed out, "Most of what I learned wasn't from Blackthorne, but as a courtesy from your mother and her dear sister. They were the ones to guide me through my first tailing mission, my first undercover assignment, my first assassination. Blackthorne is great and all, but it failed to teach me how to not be brainwashed by the Goode family into doing their dirty deeds."

"I'm not like them," Zach stated vehemently. Even after six years since his mother's death, Zach still bristled at the mention of her name and wished that he didn't carry her last name so that he would no longer be associated with her. Townsend offered to change his last name for him, but the thought of having his last name also disgusted him even if Zach begrudgingly acknowledged Townsend as his father.

"I know," Bethany replied with a smile on her face, "That's why I think we can be allies."

"I don't work with members of the Circle," Zach shot back immediately. Logically, Zach should keep a level mindset, but the more Bethany spoke, the more Zach felt irritated.

"Like you didn't work with Solomon or your mother?" Bethany commented lightheartedly, "Besides, who says I'm all that bad?"

"You snuck into the CIA headquarters and killed Dr. Baron. You orchestrated the attack at the rally that killed Amy, your supposed best friend. You killed Buchanan before Bex and Grant had the opportunity to question him. You've done far more damage to the CIA's cause than Joe ever did. In fact, you probably rival my mother in terms of your ruthlessness. Like hell I'm going to work with you."

"I don't see why you're blaming me for killing Baron and Buchanan. Baron was a mole and CIA probably wouldn't have found out if it wasn't for me. Buchanan wouldn't talk, no matter what method you use, so I was just saving you some time. And for the record, Amy's not dead. If you haven't found her yet, you're not worthy of being Gallagher alumni."

"What do you mean Amy isn't dead?" Zach demanded.

Bethany shrugged nonchalantly, "Maybe if you weren't playing hooky in Rome, you might have already heard the news. Either that or Macey McHenry isn't as competent as I made her out to be."

"But regardless," Bethany carried on, not giving Zach the opportunity to demand anymore answers from her, "You're here looking for your aunt. And since we're after the same person, I suggest that we look for her together. If you don't want to, that's fine too because if I find her first, you won't be able to get your hands on her."

"You plan on killing her?" Zach stated, rather than questioned.

"What else? I don't take kindly to traitors."

"Like you aren't one yourself," Zach retorted.

"Touche. Are you in or are you out?"

Life was full of surprises it seems. Never in a million years did Zach think that he would be able to impassively watch his mother blow herself up along with Gallagher Academy. Never in a million years did Zach think that his father would be Agent Townsend, the same guy that was assigned on Cammie's case. Never in a million years did Zach think that would willingly agree to work with a member of the Circle, whose intentions weren't all that clear. One moment she was working for the Circle's goals and in the next, she was killing off Circle members that had wronged her. If Zach thought Max's case was complicated, then Max's situation had nothing on Bethany's.

"You actually trust that I wouldn't arrest you right now and take you back to the CIA's headquarters?" Zach questioned upon seeing Bethany's lax posture.

"The fact that you even asked that question confirms that you won't, at least not before we find Kaitlin. As for the answer to your question, if you think the thought of being taken into custody is intimidating for me, then you're severely underestimating me."

Bethany followed Zach to a seemingly abandoned house in the countryside located an hour outside of Rome. Wordlessly Zach stepped through the overgrown grass, making his way to the old house. While Zach was able to make his way through with ease due to his superior height, Bethany had a bit more trouble as she had to brush aside some of the taller stalks of grass. Zach made it to the front porch and with one foot on the wooden porch, it let out a loud crack of the sound of wood splitting.

By the time Bethany made it to the front porch, Zach had successfully freed his foot from the hole, but splinters still clung to his pants and shoe and some even looked like it had pierced through the fabric of his jeans and into his skin. Zach tested the other parts of the porch with his hand by pressing down on it, before deeming it stable enough to bear human weight. Carefully he placed his uninjured foot onto the porch before his other foot followed. Bethany followed behind, taking care to step in the same places that Zach had.

Zach knocked on the door twice, but there was no answer, as expected. With brute force, Zach managed to break the rusted doorknob, allowing the door swing open with a loud creak. Without hesitation, Zach boldly stepped into the house with no weapons raised or his guard up. Bethany followed, albeit a bit more cautious. Zach may have been here before, but she certainly hadn't.

"You didn't need my help finding this place, so why did you follow me?" Zach asked, having deduced that Bethany knew exactly what this place was judging by the lack of questions and glint of familiarity in her eyes when they had arrived upon the site. However, judging from the way her eyes roved over every inch of the living room, not missing a single detail from the stain in the corner of the room, to the pictures above the fireplace to the material of the furniture, Bethany had never been inside. A surprise, considering that Bethany was much closer to Kaitlin than Zach ever was.

"I needed assurance that I was going to be able to get my hands on Kaitlin alive before you did," Bethany explained as she ran her fingers across the table, before examining the amount of dust that her fingers collected to determine approximately how long Kaitlin's safe house had been abandoned.

"You were bluffing earlier," Zach pointed out, ducking his head into every room in the house to determine that Kaitlin was long gone. Judging from the decor and pictures that remained, as well as all the common household items that were left behind, it would seem that Kaitlin wanted to give an impression that she was coming back, but Zach knew there was no way.

"The art of bluffing is something that any good spy should know. Didn't they teach you that at Gallagher?" Bethany commented nonchalantly as she wiped her hands on her pants before moving closer to examine the pictures above the fireplace.

"Why?" Only one word, but there was a lot of meaning behind it that Bethany didn't know which one Zach wanted an answer to. Perhaps he wanted an answer to all of them?

Why she was a member of the Circle?

Why she killed Dr. Baron and Buchanan?

Why she was after Kaitlin Goode?

Bethany chose to answer the last question, "I want my memories back. And if I can't get my memories back then at least I can kill her for betraying me."

"Didn't you already get your memories back?"

"Not all of it," Bethany confessed, unsure when she should stop revealing more information to Zach, who could very well use all of this against her in the future. But it felt good to be able to share her problems with someone else, even if this someone else is only a temporary ally. "All my memories regarding Max have been erased. Max is important to me so that's why I need to get those memories back."

"Important enough for you to leave the Circle for?" Zach edged on.

"No," Bethany choked out, "Never. Max won't forgive me. The only thing I can do now is to fulfill his wish."

"His wish is for you to return to Gallagher."

"Then you don't understand him at all."

* * *

 **A/N: Hello again guys!**

 **Sorry I've been absent, but as I mentioned last chapter I was finding inspiration, so this chapter took a bit longer than usual. I hope you guys enjoyed it and as always let me know what you think!**

 **Thank you for reading! Until next time.**

 **-MM**


	13. Chapter 13

_At first I was delighted at the prospect that I was going to Europe. When Catherine Goode showed up at Blackthorne to fetch me a few days before summer break let out, she had told me we were going to go on vacation. Having never been anywhere besides Blackthorne or various houses in the middle of nowhere, I remained excited during the entire flight across the Atlantic. Even the wait at the airport didn't bore me as much as it would with any other six year old. Even the way Catherine held onto my small hand as she navigated the two of us through the airport finally made me feel like I had a family. A protector. A mother._

 _Obediently, I listened to Catherine's orders to remain quiet on the plane while she took a quick nap, so I spent the entire ride with my eyes glued to the window, marveling the fact that I was surrounded by so many clouds and admired the bits of ocean that I could see through the thinner layers of clouds. Even when the flight attendant came by, about to open her mouth to ask whether we wanted a drink, oblivious to the fact that Catherine was asleep, I managed to put a finger to my mouth and pointed to Catherine. The flight attendant's eyes widened in understanding and quietly handed me a glass of water before moving on to the pair behind us._

 _When we landed, Catherine was no nonsense and somehow got our luggage and the two of us out of the airport in record time. All along she kept dragging me along by the hand, while I lagged behind attempting to admire anything and everything. Even when Catherine dragged me into a black car with very tinted windows, I pressed my face against the window in an attempt to see the outside world. That only lasted five minutes before Catherine yanked the back of my shirt and pulled me away from the window. One stern look from her was enough to prevent me from returning to my previous spot._

 _If that wasn't enough disappointment, I was sorely disappointed when we arrived at our destination, to another cabin in the middle of nowhere. Inwardly I huffed, cursing Catherine silently in my head for bringing me to a different continent only to come to another cabin in the middle of the woods, as if I hadn't seen enough of them in America. With a nudge from the driver, I begrudgingly followed Catherine into the cabin, ready to just curl up in the corner and pout all of my misery away._

 _There were three other men present, which wasn't all that surprising, but what was surprising was that there was another man lying so still on the bed, with blood dripping down from his forehead and onto the floor, turning the wood into a dark red color. His wrists were shackled with chains that was connected to the ground. The three men's tauntings ceased upon Catherine's entrance and the only sound that permeated the air was the man's heavy breathing._

" _Catherine," the man choked out, his voice raspy. I watched Catherine's lips turn up into a sinister smile and in an instant I knew what this was about. This was an interrogation room. He was her enemy. And judging from the fact that he was still alive, he wouldn't talk. So Catherine came here herself to get him to talk. And she was confident that she was going to be able to do that._

" _The longer you keep your mouth shut, the more pain you'll be in," Catherine merely replied, "So tell us what you've told the CIA about the Circle and where the list is."_

" _I don't know what you're talking about," the man choked out, letting in a few chuckles in between coughs, "What list? And if I knew anything valuable about the Circle, the CIA would had already taken down your operations."_

" _I'll come back when you're more willing to talk," Catherine stated, motioning the three men to follow her out of the door. Not for one moment did she even glance my way, it was almost like she had forgotten all about me. And she probably did._

 _I scrambled to the kitchen, aware of the man's eyes following me as a I disappeared into the kitchen. Pulling a chair over, I climbed atop it and stood at full height, satisfied that I was able to reach the counter. Picking out a clean looking glass, I filled it up with water before carefully climbing down from the chair and returning back to the main room, where the man's eyes were still facing the direction of the kitchen. I hurried over to the man's side, sliding the glass of water onto the bed before climbing on myself._

" _You should drink some water," I said, holding the water near the man's chapped lips. After a couple seconds of hesitation, the man nodded and opened his mouth and let me drip some water into his mouth. At first, the man choked on the water and I was scared that I had hurt him more than helped him but his reassuring smile dispelled all those thoughts away._

" _Thank you," the man said after consuming half of the glass. I placed the glass onto the edge of the bed, but I made no move to leave._

" _What's your name and why did Catherine lock you up here?" I asked, my curiosity taking over._

" _Matthew Morgan. As for why I'm here, even if I told you, there are some things that a child wouldn't understand," the man replied._

" _Can I call you Uncle Matt?" I asked, bouncing up and down on the bed, "I have lots of aunts, but I never had an uncle."_

 _Uncle Matt let out a hearty laugh, "Sure, if you want to."_

" _Why are you so nice to me?" I asked, unable to stop the questions flowing from my mouth, "You're Catherine's enemy and I'm on Catherine's side so that makes you my enemy too."_

" _That fact didn't stop you from giving me water," Uncle Matt pointed out, "You're only a child. I don't believe any child your age can be corrupted yet."_

" _What's corr-upted?" I asked, stumbling over the pronunciation._

" _It means bad," Uncle Matt explained._

" _Of course I'm not bad!" I exclaimed, indignant that he would even imply that there was a possibility that I was, "I'm a good kid."_

" _I know," Uncle Matt replied with a small smile on his face, "You're a good kid; you're just surrounded by all the wrong people."_

" _What do you mean?"_

" _Nothing," Uncle Matt said, "It's nothing important."_

 _For the next three days, there was no trace of Catherine or the three men. Instead it was just Uncle Matt and me and we talked about almost everything. I did my best to describe Blackthorne, and all my friends there and in turn he told me about his beautiful wife and daughter that he dearly missed. I had promised him that I would get him home, but he only smiled sadly at my promise, almost as if he knew that it wouldn't be reality._

 _After that moment, the two of us avoided heavier topics and I made Uncle Matt describe to me all the places he had once travelled to. He would tell me about his friends, but never their names. In the span of three days, it felt like I knew him inside and out and he knew everything about me that he could had learned._

" _I don't know who my parents are," I confessed, "Usually I follow Catherine around. But it's okay because I have my best friend Max and his little brother Marcus. And you. You're all the family that I need."_

" _Except I don't think I'm going to be able to return to my own," Uncle Matt sighed._

" _Why? I'm going to get you out of here."_

" _Beth, have you ever heard of something called The Circle of Cavan?"_

 _I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion, "The Circle of what?"_

" _The Circle...is an organization and they're going to prevent me from going home because I have information that it valuable to them, but I refuse to speak."_

" _Then why don't you just tell them and they'll let you go home?" I suggested, earning a few chuckles from Uncle Matt._

" _I wish it was that simple," Uncle Matt confessed, "But for everyone's sakes, I will refuse to talk even if they kill me. When that happens, I hope if you someday meet my wife and daughter, I hope you can tell them that I love them."_

" _No, you're going to make it out alive," I replied stubbornly, "I'm going to make sure of it."_

" _Thank you," Uncle Matt said, "For being kind to me even if I am your enemy."_

" _Catherine's judgment is crazy; there's no way you're a bad guy," I insisted, tugging on the metal chains, hoping that it would just magically just pull free, but to no avail._

" _Beth, stop before you hurt yourself," Uncle Matt scolded after a minute of tugging. Reluctantly, I followed his instructions and sank down on the floor next to the bed._

" _I don't want you to die," I confessed._

" _I don't want to either," Uncle Matt replied, "But this is the path that I chose for myself."_

 _There were a few moments of silence between the two of us until Uncle Matt broke the silence once more._

" _Beth, I have a favor to ask of you."_

" _I promise I'll do it if I am able to," I replied, knowing that was the least I could do if I couldn't break him out of this place._

" _I left something very important behind. When the time is right, can you go retrieve it for me?" I nodded and leaned in closer as Uncle Matt whispered to me the exact location of the item. I never got the chance to ask Uncle Matt what he meant by the time is right or what exactly he left behind or what he wanted me to do with the items when I retrieved it, when the door swung open. Startled, I fell off of the bed and onto the wooden floor as Catherine and the three men marched in._

" _Matthew, are you ready to talk now?" Catherine asked, "I'll ask you one more time, where is the list?"_

" _I don't know what you're talking about."_

" _The list, Matthew. Don't play dumb or else you will suffer the consequences."_

" _As if I'm not already," Uncle Matt retorted._

" _If you don't talk, then I'm going to kill Bethany," Catherine threatened, pointing her own gun straight at me while one man came over to restrain me. I screamed, flailing my legs around as I attempted to break free from his grip. Uncle Matt and I exchanged glances, mine full of fear, while his full of concern, but I knew that he was going to remain quiet._

" _There's nothing you can use as leverage over me," Uncle Matt stated quietly. I closed my eyes and braced myself for the impact. I heard the shot ring out and expected pain to explode at any time, but I never felt it. Instead, the bullet had lodged itself into Uncle Matt's calf, the blood already staining the bedsheets._

 _In a fit of rage, I managed to shake off the man who had me restrained, and swipe the gun from his waistband. Mimicking Catherine's movements, I flicked off the safety, and fired at the man besides me. I watched a six feet tall man crumple to the floor, his hand clutching his abdomen as blood seeped through his fingers and all around him. I raised the gun, pointing it straight at Catherine._

" _Threaten me one more time and I'll kill you too," I stated, my voice eerily cold. Instead of being scared, Catherine cracked a smile._

" _I knew you had potential. My first assignment: either you kill him or you die," Catherine commanded, jerking her own gun in the direction of Uncle Matt. There were a multitude of emotions in his eyes, but there was one message that clearly conveyed._

 _Kill me._

 _With trembling hands, I raised my gun, pointing it straight at his head. The least I could do was give him a quick death._

 _I'm sorry, I mouthed, but Uncle Matt shook his head and smiled at me. He nodded quietly at my gun to do it._

 _Remember what you promised me, Uncle Matt had mouthed, followed by something else that I hadn't been able to interpret until years later. The two of us closed our eyes at the same time; Uncle Matt as a form of quiet acceptance of his fate, and I, to avoid seeing his face, the same man who showed me more fatherly affection that I would ever receive in my life. Yet when my fingers closed in on the trigger, the blast sounded through the cabin, all I could see was the imprint of his face burned into the back of my eyelids, and the final words that he whispered._

 _Take down The Circle of Cavan._

* * *

 _There was only silence between Catherine and I during the ride to the airport. Even as we were waiting to board the plane, we sat rigidly side by side. Catherine's eyes remained glued onto a particular tile located a few feet away from her, while I fiddled with my fingers anxious to be back home._

 _Except where was home?_

 _One of the many cabins that Catherine took me to during break? Blackthorne? No...none of those places had family. In that moment, I wished that I could had traded places with Uncle Matt._

 _At least he had a home to return to._

 _Catherine cleared her throat rather loudly, but I didn't bother to acknowledge her presence. All I could see was the blood that stained his torso and his very still body lying on the bed. The drops of blood that dripped from his body as the men carried him out of the cabin, presumably to dump his body elsewhere. The pained expression that was present on his face._

" _What did Matthew say to you?" Catherine asked after realizing that I wasn't going to give her a reaction like she wanted._

" _A disposable tool doesn't give up her remaining leverage," I merely responded, "You used me to evoke Matthew Morgan's sympathy because I'm just a child. You didn't need him alive anymore because you assumed that if he was going to talk, he was going to say it to me. A perfect plan, but you have no control whether I wish to share this information or not."_

" _The ones that don't talk are of no use to me," Catherine threatened, "Aren't you scared of ending up with the same fate as him?"_

" _The ones that also have no leverage are of no use to you," I retorted, "So I'll just take a gamble and see if the information is important enough to you that you won't kill me for it."_

 _Unsurprisingly, that was the last conversation I had with Catherine for the next ten years. Instead, Catherine sent her sister, a woman who introduced herself as Ally, to get close to me. Ally probed and hinted at the matter, but once I caught on to her motives, I kept her at arm's length._

 _Years went by, but never once did I utter Matthew Morgan's final words._

* * *

 **A/N: Hello guys!**

 **I'm happy to be back with another chapter so soon, especially since there was a long gap between 11 and 12. As always, let me know what you think and thanks for reading! Until next time!**

 **-MM**


	14. Chapter 14

"I can't believe I was ever friends with her!" Angela exclaimed, slamming down her textbooks. The textbooks landed on the desk with a loud thud and all classmates surrounding her winced at the sound, but didn't comment on it.

"Mr. Solomon, why are you acting like nothing has happened?" Angela demanded, "One of my best friends is dead, no thanks to someone who I thought was my best friend!"

When the news first reached their ears, no one wanted to believe that it was true, even with some of the tenth graders claiming that they witnessed Macey McHenry enter Gallagher in tears. Even so, Calie, Angela, and the rest of the eleventh grade class kept waiting for Amy to return home safe and sound. But she never came. Even when night fell and then the sun rose, Amy was nowhere to be seen.

By the time the second day came, they finally accepted Amy's death. And the entire Gallagher Academy's faculty was acting like nothing was happening.

"Acting on your emotions or suppressing them could change the outcome of how a mission turns out. Remember that," Mr. Solomon merely stated before continuing on with his lecture.

Once again, Angela interrupted his lecture, not able to control her pent up anger, "What? So I'm just supposed to forget that Amy ever existed? And we're just going to let Beth walk away free? This is fucking ridiculous. We're spies; we should be doing our jobs!" The rest of the class nodded in agreement to Angela's statement, including the Blackthorne boys.

"Correction: I'm a spy; you're not. Don't overestimate your own abilities. The CIA is on the case; there's no need for you to worry about it. If you want to make a difference, focus on graduating so that you can actually be full fledged spies." The tone of his voice and the look in Solomon's eyes signalled that it was the end of the discussion. Even though Angela didn't interrupt class for the rest of the session, in her heart, she knew that it wasn't the end of the discussion.

After class ended, Angela dragged Calie along with her trying to keep up with Max's pace. Knowing that someone was chasing after him, Max sped up his pace, not wanting to be bombarded with more questions or admonishment. As if all those nasty remarks that Max received from various Gallagher girls after Beth was deemed a traitor wasn't enough, the remarks doubled after the news of Amy's death. Even if Max had persistently believed in Beth before, he was starting to doubt everything after Amy's death.

Doubt if Amy was really dead.

Doubt if he and Amy were idiots in believing Beth's innocence.

Doubt if he ever knew the real Beth.

Doubt if he was ever Beth's friend or just a stupid little pawn in her plan just like Amy.

Angela and Calie caught up to him, blocking Max's way to his room. Max stopped walking and almost considered making a run for it to avoid whatever they were going to say to him. But if it was one thing that he learned since being at Gallagher, it was that they were persistent. Max might as well get it over with.

"What do you want?" Max asked curtly. Since Amy's death, the little bit of civility that existed between Gallagher and Blackthorne had ceased to exist, since a Blackthorne student had killed one of their sisters. Blackthorne made assassins and was their enemy.

"Where's Beth?" Angela demanded with her no nonsense attitude that Max had grown accustomed to before when they did their CoveOps assignment together, but now he hated it.

"I don't know," Max responded, "If that's all, I'm going to get going."

"You must know where she is," Angela persisted, "You need to stop protecting her. Tell us what we need to know, before she kills more people."

"If the CIA can't track her down, what makes you think that I know where she is? Before I came to Blackthorne, I thought she was dead! So what makes you think that I know anything about her anymore?"

"Your father must know where she is considering that she works for him," Angela stated nonchalantly. Max narrowed his eyes at her.

"How did you know about that?" Besides Beth and himself, the only ones who could had known about this fact was Solomon and Zach, both of which aren't likely to spill that information, especially to unofficial spies.

"What? Did you think we were so incompetent that we would never find out that you were affiliated with the Circle? That your father is the current leader of the revived faction of the Circle? That you were meant to be the next in line successor? For all we know, you'll be the next one to betray Gallagher."

"Then don't be stupid," Max responded, "Don't be stupid enough to trust me like you trusted Beth." With those parting words, Max continued walking, pushing past Angela and Calie. Even as Angela called his name again and again, Max didn't look back, didn't bother to deem her calls with a response.

Max didn't need their trust. Having the guys' trust was enough.

* * *

Bex and Grant made it back to Gallagher as fast as they possibly could, only to find a grumpy Patricia Buckingham, cursing the fact that all the operations had been left to her to be dealt with. Cammie, Liz, and Macey were still not back, but Bex wasn't worried because it was still five hours before their designated meet up time. Townsend, Headmistress Morgan and Solomon were busy assisting the CIA with investigations of the bombing, so it wasn't a surprise when Bex couldn't find them.

Although an hour later, Bex spotted Solomon on his way to Sublevel Two, right in time for CoveOps class, Bex decided not to bother him with anymore questions seeing the dark circled that rimmed the bottom of his eyes, his uncharacteristic slouched posture, and an opened canned of energy drink that Solomon tossed away before he reached the classroom. As for Zach, it was just an understood fact that he disappeared every so often and would reappear again at odd intervals; Bex learned to not question his absence anymore.

Grant had disappeared off into one of the guest rooms to catch up on some sleep after driving for the entire night. Logically Bex should get some sleep also, since she had been awake for just as long as Grant, if not longer, but she couldn't sleep, not with the damn check balled up in her right hand.

Bex walked the entire Gallagher Academy at least twenty times - she lost count after the first twenty rounds - with all sorts of theories as why to Bethany would leave the check behind. Bex finally concluded that she was driving herself insane when she thought of the possibility that Bethany was a double agent, and was actually helping them take down the Circle. The only double agents that Bex ever trusted was Solomon and Zach, and even she had doubts about them at certain points, but there was no way she would ever trust a third. Especially since that third one killed one of her sisters.

Bex scrambled downstairs after receiving Cammie's call that they were back at Gallagher. On her way to the Headmistress' office, Bex stopped by the guest wing, knocking loudly on Grant's door. A sleepy Grant stumbled out of the room, but obediently followed Bex to the office without a word of complaint. By the time they reached the office, Grant was wide awake and alert.

"Liz, I have the check right here-" Bex was saying, but her words died at the back of her throat upon laying her eyes on an unexpected presence. Her eyes widened in shock as her brain scrambled to find the right words, but Grant beat her to it.

"I'm not dreaming am I?" Grant asked, before pinching himself for the show of it.

"Amy?" Bex managed to choke out, desperately hoping that the answer to Grant's question was a solid no. She reached a hand forward to touch the younger girl. When her hand made contact with her shoulder, Bex confirmed that she was very much real and very much alive.

"You must be Agent Baxter," Amy commented with a small smile on her face, "I heard a lot of things about you."

"Yeah well I heard that you were dead," Bex responded, getting over her initial shock, "Macey was being dramatic for nothing. You had me fooled."

"We have a lot to catch up on," Macey stated, "Amy, you can go back to your room now." A look of disappointment washed over Amy's face.

"I want to stay," Amy requested, "Beth is my best friend, maybe there's something else I could help with."

"Not now," Macey stated with a tone of finality, "Go back to your room for now and let your classmates know that you're alive. They're been worried about you for the past couple of days." With a sigh, Amy nodded in agreement before exiting the room quietly, shutting the door behind her.

Once Macey was satisfied with Amy's absence, she began recounting the entire story, from what happened at the rally, to everything Amy told them about her version of what happened at the rally, to finding her in the cabin, then to the dead drop location that Amy directed them to.

"So you're saying there was a traitor in the Circle who tipped Amy off that there was going to be danger?" Grant questioned.

Macey nodded, "As hard as it is to believe, I think that Bethany was working against the Circle in this situation, even if she was working for the Circle in all of the other situations. At least we know she didn't have the heart to kill off Amy."

"You're starting to question her loyalty to the Circle?" Bex asked.

"We did question it after we found Amy," Cammie answered, "But what we found at the dead drop location solidified all of our doubts." Cammie pulled out a worn spiral notebook, with the cover halfway falling off of its rings and the pages already turned yellow. Bex took the notebook from Cammie's hands, flipping through it carefully to ensure that she didn't accidently rip any of the frail pages. Despite the yellow pages, smeared lines on the pages, the words were unmistakably written clearly in black ink. Bex kept flipping through the entire notebook, noting that the handwriting changed at one point, indicating that there were two authors, until she reached the very end. The last thirty pages were left blank, but the ones that were written in gave them more information than they would probably find out on their own.

"This is the list," Bex stated calmly, her brain trying to process what this notebook meant, "The same list that Cammie remembered of all the Circle's founders, but more extensive with their descendants listed."

"It's a crossed off list," Liz corrected, "The line crossing through the name is darker than the words, meaning that it was a fresher mark. All the names that we recognize that are crossed off are all dead."

"Then why is Solomon's name crossed through?" Bex questioned, "He's still alive."

"Unofficially," Cammie answered, "But even so, he's no longer part of the Circle so it makes sense that his name is crossed off."

"Baron and Buchanan's names are crossed off," Grant pointed out, "So does that mean whoever is crossing off the names came by recently? And is still alive and active? Did you guys figure out who the writers were?"

"The first one is my dad," Cammie answered, "I compared his handwriting to the other journal that he left behind. As for who the second one is, Macey thinks its Bethany's handwriting."

"The writing matches the note that she gave me at the rally," Macey said, "And Amy says its Bethany's handwriting."

"Compare this," Bex demanded, unfurling the check that she had crumpled in hand. After smoothing out the paper, she placed it down on the table, placing it side by side to one of the later pages which had the newer handwriting. Even if she was no scientist like Liz, Bex could tell that the two handwritings were eerily similar, from the way all of the tails of the y's and g's were looped upwards and how all half of the letters were connected to each other like the person was attempting to write half cursive and half print.

"So does this mean Bethany just gave us all the identities of the Circle members that are alive?" Grant questioned.

"That and the next Circle member that's going to die," Liz commented, pointing at the three black dots next to Buchanan and Baron's names in their respective spots. She took the notebook, flipping back a couple of pages to point out the same three dots next to Dubios and Winters' names.

"Her targets?" Bex asked, taking the book from Liz's hands and scanning through all of the names to see exactly how many Bethany killed. Bex kept count, until she saw a very familiar name, with the three dots boldly next to it. The ink was faded, indicating that it had been a long time and it had been a long time since his death.

"Cammie," Bex called, handing over the book to Cammie, pointing at the last name on the list.

Matthew Morgan…

"How old was she?" Macey asked, not really expecting an answer, but Liz was always ready to give an answer.

"If my calculations are correct, she would had been six years old," Liz responded confidently, but her voice trailed off upon sensing the tense atmosphere in the room.

After getting over the initial sadness of being reminded of her father's death again, Cammie turned the conversation onto what happened on Bex and Grant's end at the party, while Liz took control of the notebook and jotted down notes of her findings.

Upon Liz's thorough investigation of the notebook, they were able to establish the following:

Bethany had named Maxwell Edwards and Catherine Goode as her targets, but failed to personally kill them in the end. Liz had deduced the tiny star at the end of the three dots as the symbol for failed assassination.

Bethany was responsible for the deaths of Elias Crane the Sixth, Charlene Dubios, and Samuel Winters, to which the CIA had never officially establish a cause of death for them in the files.

Joe Solomon had once been deemed a target, but the three dots were crossed out an unknown period of time later.

Aside from the leaders of the main branch, Bethany had been responsible for the deaths of a good number of the members in the lower ranks. Between her assassinations and the CIA, MI6, and Interpol, at least 75% of the members of the main branch had been killed or detained. The remaining 25% had dispersed into hiding in separate places and some were presumed to have joined the side branch.

Members that were presumed to be inactive or had disappeared were indicated by an X next to their names.

Max and Marcus were both listed as descendants to Maxwell Edwards. Both names were crossed off the list.

Bethany and Joseph were the only two descendants listed under Ioseph Cavan. Joseph's name was crossed off. Liz deduced the question marks next to the Cavan lineage indicated that Bethany was confused about her own heritage, or that she believed that there were still some missing members in her family that could possibly be alive. Relationship between Joseph and Bethany: unknown.

Kaitlin Goode's name had three dots next to it, but unlike the rest, her name wasn't crossed off.

"Her next target is Kaitlin," Liz announced, "Which we already deduced from the recording that Bethany left behind."

"But why Buchanan first?" Grant questioned, "There was no reason for her to go after Buchanan, especially if she knew that we were going after him, so we would detain him and effectively prevent him from working for the Circle anymore. Why did she have to personally go and kill him?"

"And why did Bethany even set up a dead drop location with Amy in the first place?" Macey added on, "If she forgot her memories, then Bethany would have the same thoughts as a regular Gallagher, and wouldn't had anticipated that she would leave."

"I'm afraid that those are questions that she'll have to answer for herself," Headmistress Morgan answered. Their heads turned towards the door to see Headmistress Morgan and Solomon enter, looking weary and tired, but still alert of their surroundings.

"Mom, she's going after Kaitlin Goode," Cammie informed her.

"I know," Headmistress Morgan said, much to their surprise, "Zach contacted us. Bethany made contact with him."

"Are we going after them?" Macey asked.

"No."

"Is Zach going to bring her back with him?"

"No."

"Then-"

"Our paths will cross again soon, but not now. Not yet."

* * *

 **A/N: Hi guys!**

 **An slightly early update because I've been inspired and writing a lot lately. This is going to be the last dull chapter, next chapter is going to be exciting (at least I think it is). I think the story is slowly going to come to an end. I'm estimating around 20 chapters at most, but we'll see where my inspiration takes me.**

 **As always, thank you for reading and reviewing. Let me know what you think! Until next time!**

 **-MM**


	15. Chapter 15

Amy had never been happier to be back. Even her return to Gallagher five years ago after the CIA took her into hiding after the attempt on her life was nothing compared to her return today. Because last time, they knew she was coming back.

Amy's first destination was to return to her room, but she came upon an empty room with three of the beds neatly made and one bed stripped bare of any bedsheets.

Right, Angela and Calie were probably at Culture and Assimilation, Amy mused to herself as she changed out of the dress that she wore to the rally which had gotten dirty over the course of the past few days.

Although she tried to not think about her family who had definitely died in the explosion, the few days of solitude at the cabin had granted Amy a lot of time to ponder over the situation. Even when she went to sleep, all she could dream about was the play by play of everything that happened that day. By now, Amy could recite the entire situation with enough detail that would make Mr. Solomon crack a smile, but for some reason, Amy couldn't pin down her feelings. In some instances, Amy felt grateful that she was spared; in others, she felt guilty that she was the only one who had survived. Amy felt especially guilty for the Hunter family, who were collateral damage in the Circle's scheme to kill her. But in regard to her own family, Amy couldn't decide how she felt about their death. Grief that she lost the remaining of her blood related kin? Relief that she didn't have to carry on a show with her aunt of how close they were? Pressured that she was the next in line for the throne?

After wandering around the mansion aimlessly for an hour, Amy decided that she might as well go attend class. If she wanted a semblance of normalcy in her life, then Amy might as well start it by attending CoveOps class.

Even though Amy knew Mr. Solomon would probably give her a disapproving look for being ten minutes late to class, Amy didn't let that stop her from opening the door to the Sublevel Two classroom boldly and stepping inside like she was supposed to be there all along. As expected, all twenty two heads turned towards the door. Mr. Solomon merely glanced up from the newspaper that he was reading from to give her a slight head nod. No disapproving look in his eyes; just relief that she was safe and alive.

Angela and Calie were the first ones out of their seats, followed by the rest of the Gallagher girls. The boys remained in their seats, but relief was written visibly all over their faces. Amy briefly caught a glimpse of a small smile on Max's face before he turned away.

"You're not dead!" Calie exclaimed, reaching out to grab Amy into a hug. Amy laughed and reached out to return her embrace, grunting under the impact of the rest of the girls joining in for a group hug.

After five minutes of the girls bombarding Amy with questions upon more questions, more hugs and sighs of relief, and questioning glances from the Blackthorne Boys, Mr. Solomon finally saved Amy by clearing his throat rather loudly. With sheepish looks, the girls scrambled to return to their seats, with Amy following suit. Rather than taking her old seat, Amy chose to sit in Bethany's old seat, a move that didn't go unnoticed in a room full of spies, but no one verbally commented on it.

Even with the questioning looks that was shot her way during the rest of the class, Amy wore a smile on her face during the entire time.

It was like she had never left.

Of course, the peace didn't last too long as Angela, Calie, Lucas, Justin, Cole, and Max caught up with Amy once class ended. Angela and Calie had cornered her in the hallway, ushering her to a quiet corner of the library to explain, with the boys following behind them. Whether or not Angela and Calie agreed to let them come, Amy didn't know, but she knew there was some unspeakable tension between Max and Angela, with the way Angela purposely chose to sit as far away from him as possible and angle her body away from him when they were close.

Amy wanted to ask Angela what happened between the two of them, but of course, Angela didn't give her a chance to.

"Explain," Angela demanded. Having been roommates with Angela for so many years, Amy knew exactly what Angela was asking with that single word. The only problem was that Amy didn't know how to explain it to them, especially since she didn't know what had exactly happened herself.

"Somebody tipped me off before the explosion," Amy began, believing that it was the best place to start, "Someone that isn't affiliated with the CIA or Secret Service. Macey told me to watch for the signal, so when I saw it, I got out of there. That person who I thought was a CIA agent brought me to a cabin and I stayed there until Macey came for me."

"So who was it?" Lucas questioned.

"Cammie thinks he is a double agent. A member of the Circle, but working for the CIA," Amy answered, "I know you guys won't believe me and will think that I'm being biased, but this incident confirmed that Beth double agent."

"Don't be-" Angela started, quick to dismiss Amy's defense for Beth, but surprisingly was interrupted by Max.

"There's one way to find out," Max stated coolly.

"How?" Calie asked, biting back the hostility in her voice.

"We sneak out and go find her," Max offered, "The only way we're going to get any answers is to ask the person in question."

"And how do you propose that we will find her, much less sneak out?" Angela questioned, "You were the one who said you didn't know where she was."

"The sneaking out part is easy. I followed Beth once when she was sneaking out of Gallagher and was surprised that none of the alarms were triggered. As for finding Beth...we'll just have to bank on the fact that her hiding habits haven't changed. Or that she'll come find us once word reaches her that we snuck out. Or we just don't."

"That's a ridiculous plan," Angela commented, but her expression didn't look like she disapproved of the plan all that much.

"I'm in," Amy said, the first to express her approval of Max's plan, "Either we sit here and do nothing since the adults won't tell us anything, or we take the matter into our own hands. First and foremost, Beth is one of our own. Others may have pinned her as a traitor, but to me, Beth is still my sister until proven otherwise. Don't forget all of those evenings that Beth spent at the P&E barn with Calie to help her improve her scores. Don't forget that time Beth helped Angela teach those civilian boys a lesson for harassing her. And I'm certainly not going to forget that Beth was one of the first people to treat me normally and not as a princess. Not to mention that she was very likely involved in saving my life this time. Are you in or are you out?"

Amy hadn't expected Angela to be the first to nod her head yes. Quickly after Angela's answer, Calie followed suit, along with the rest of Max's roommates. Although Amy knew how much Beth had done for them in the few years that she had been here, Amy didn't know the extent of Beth's importance to the boys. But at the very least, Amy knew whether it was Blackthorne or Gallagher, Beth meant something to both of them. And they were about to find out if those feelings were reciprocated.

As Max mentioned, sneaking out wasn't the hard part. At exactly midnight, the seven of them met up in front of the fireplace. Max reached for a loose brick, pulling it loose and the six of them watched in amazement as the fireplace shifted, revealing a hidden passageway. Max quickly ushered all of them through the entrance under sixty seconds. When the time hit the sixty second mark, the door quietly slid shut, dousing them in darkness.

Per Max's request, the boys had brought extra flashlights and were distributing them to the girls. After flicking on the flashlights, Max gave a small nod to the rest of the group before leading the way through the passageway.

If Max hadn't been here once before, he certainly would have been as lost as the rest of the group, with all of the twists and turns and dead ends in the passageways. Max supposed that it was a deliberate design to fool people into thinking that this passageway didn't go anywhere important in the event that someone happened to stumble upon it. How Beth managed to figure out this route all by herself, Max had no idea, but was grateful that she had inadvertently shown him this route.

The group reached a dead end, inciting whispers amongst each other on whether or not Max's method was actually legit.

"Now what?" Justin asked Max, who was brushing his fingers against stone wall. Stopping upon a particular stone, Max yanked it out, dropping it to the floor, and proceeded to continue along the entire height of the wall, until a makeshift ladder formed.

"Now, we climb," Max answered as he pushed open the crate above his head and hauled himself out of the tunnel. Angela was the first to head for the makeshift ladder, sticking her hands and feet into the gaps left from the absence of the stones. Once she reached the top, Max's arm extended forward to give her a lift up. One by one, the rest of them reached the top and Max carefully replaced the crate in a manner that made it look like it had never been tampered with at all.

"Come on," Amy whispered in the darkness, "I know where Liz's van is parked." Obediently the rest of the group followed Amy, taking care to turn off their flashlights now that they were outside on Gallagher territory.

When Amy reached Liz's white van, which was known to be one of Liz's prized experiments, Cole took over with lockpicking the door to the driver's seat open and spent the next ten minutes hotwiring the van. When the engine purred to life, the rest of them climbed into the backseat of the van, save for Max, who got into the passenger seat. All of them held their breaths until they made it out of Gallagher without being stopped.

"Why was the guard asleep?" Calie asked, having known that there was always a guard at the gates for as long as she had been at Gallagher.

"I sedated him before we went through the tunnels," Lucas confessed with a sheepish smile, "There was no way we were going to make it through the gates, so Justin and I thought of this idea."

"Did he see you?" Calie asked.

"Does it matter?" Lucas answered, "Come tomorrow, Gallagher will already know that we've left the mansion, so I don't think seeing me or not will make a difference."

The rest of the ride was quiet, with some dozing off to sleep, while others were staring out into the darkness. After three hours of driving, Cole switched with Justin. Another three hours, Justin switched with Lucas. Three more hours, Lucas switched with Max, who was going to finish the drive to their destination. By now, the sun had already risen and Gallagher was certainly already well aware of their disappearance. Well it mattered not, because they finally made it to one of Blackthorne's old research facilities that had been long abandoned. Zach had shown it to Max once, with the promise that Max would only come here if he was ever in danger. Max felt guilty about breaking Zach's promise, but this was the only place that Max could think of Beth to be if she wanted to be found.

"What is this place?" Angela asked, covering her yawn with the crook of her arm.

"One of Blackthorne's old research labs," Max answered, pushing open the front door. He coughed as the dust kicked up from his movement and brushed aside the cobwebs that covered the doorway as he stepped inside.

From first glance, Max immediately knew that Beth wasn't here, but he still insisted on searching every room for his own peace of mind. As if the amount of dust that had collected wasn't enough of an indication that no one had come here in years, then the lack of human presence certainly did it for him. The others noticed the same thing that Max did, but chose not to comment on it and obediently helped him search every room even if they knew they were just wasting their time.

"Don't be disappointed," Amy said, placing a comforting hand on Max's shoulder, "There's still other places that we haven't looked."

"Like where?" Max asked as they exited the old building after four hours of searching the place inside and out and all around the property.

"There's a dead drop location that Beth uses. After Macey, Cammie, and Liz found me, I took them there and they found a journal that was left behind. I don't know the contents of what was in it, but at least I know Beth has been there before recently."

"Let's go then," Lucas announced, having already gotten into the driver's seat. Although all of them were discouraged by the lack of finding, they were still determined to keep going. After all, they had known it wasn't going to be easy searching for a spy who didn't want to be found.

This time, Amy sat in the passenger seat, giving directions. Every three hours, they would stop to switch drivers, stock up on food and water, and take bathroom breaks, but they never stopped for more than that. They caught up on sleep when it wasn't their turn to drive and those who were awake kept quiet to allow others to sleep.

Just for their own peace of mind, they stopped by Solomon's cabin just to make sure that Beth hadn't been hiding there after Amy had left. Just as they expected, there was no one there.

They kept going.

Much to their surprise, the dead drop location that Amy spoke of had been right in Roseville. As the seven of them stepped out onto the abandoned street without a soul in sight, Amy wished that there was a crowd surrounding them. In their Gallagher uniforms, they were too noticeable, especially with so many of them.

Amy voiced this concern, "We attract too much attention. Maybe I should go alone."

"No way, I'm going with you," Max whispered back, "What if something happens? You're still a target." Amy nodded at his request, and the rest of them climbed back into the van, with Cole driving it off to a more inconspicuous location.

Amy shivered, but it wasn't because of the light breeze. She had an eerie feeling about this place. As she walked down the rundown street, Amy flinched at every noise that she heard. She felt uneasy, even though she knew Max was right behind her the whole time.

After experiencing this feeling, Amy had been glad that she had been left in the car with Liz when Macey and Cammie went to retrieve the journal after Amy told them the location, exactly how Beth had described it. Even when they set up the dead drop location, Beth merely told her to remember the directions and had never personally brought Amy there, so it was the first time Amy was here. And she hated the feeling she was getting from it.

Amy did a double take when she heard faint footsteps from around the corner. Max stayed still besides her, holding in his breathing as he tugged on her arm to back away from the corner. Slowly, the two of them inched back from the corner, their panic intensifying as the steps came closer. By Max's calculations, the person was going to reach the turn in the next five steps.

Four. Max broke out in a sweat as his eyes were riveted intensely at that spot.

Three. Amy tugged on Max's arm, earning his eye contact as Amy's eyes yelled for the two of them to make a run for it, all consequences to be damned.

Two. Max ignored Amy's request and instead pulled her down another street, thinking it was too risky. If the person had a gun, they would be dead in three seconds, with their backs exposed to them.

One. Max held his breath as he heard the footsteps round the corner and down their way. Right as Max was going to grab Amy and continue retreating, those footsteps stopped.

"There's no use in hiding," the voice said coldly. A woman's voice.

Before Max and Amy could react, the woman crossed the remaining distance in a few seconds flat and appeared in front of them, with a gun pointed right at them. Amy held on tightly to Max's hand, so tightly to the point where circulation was cut off, but the two of them had remained rooted to their spot.

"Ah, there you are," the woman commented, "If you move, you will die." Judging from the way her hands didn't shake as she pointed the gun at them or the way her finger hovered over the trigger in a way where she only needed one second to fire, Max knew that her threat wasn't an empty one. Except...how were they going to escape this predicament?

"I knew Bethany couldn't do the job," the woman continued, "So I'm here to finish the job for her." In a split second, Max realized two things: that woman was a Circle member and she had aimed at Amy and pulled the trigger. Max reacted on instinct and pushed Amy onto the ground, the bullet barely missing his head. Amy landed with a loud grunt, but her eyes widened as she saw the woman ready to fire another shot. Amy shoved Max off of her before latching onto his arm and yanking him hard as the woman let off another shot. The bullet landed in the dirt, exactly where they had been moments before.

A third shot rang out, but this time, it wasn't the woman who fired. Instead, the bullet buried its way into the woman's chest, right at her heart, with blood spurting outwards onto the ground and staining her shirt. The woman crumpled to the ground and Amy couldn't help but noticed that her bloody torso now matched the color of her hair.

"Both of you are idiots," a very familiar voice stated as she hopped down from the roof of the building next to them.

"Beth!" Amy cried, but Beth's focus wasn't on Amy or Max, but rather at the woman who lay crumpled on the ground. Beth nudged her dead body with her shoe and sighed when she realized that she was dead. Not that Beth had expected her to be alive; after all, she was a perfect shot.

"Zach?" Max called out as he saw a familiar lanky figure rounding the corner in a relaxed manner.

"You're late," Beth stated. Zach eyed the dead body on the ground with disinterest.

"I thought we agreed that you weren't going to kill her until we interrogated her?" Zach asked, finally noticing Max and Amy in the alleyway. If he was surprised by their presence, his face didn't show it.

"It was either her or them," Beth responded, squatting down. Beth placed her gun on the ground next to her as she began searching the woman's pockets.

"Why are you here?" Zach asked, directing the question at a very guilty looking Amy and a shocked Max to see that Zach had been with Beth. And that both of them were here, in person.

"We were looking for Beth," Max answered. Beth stood up; hands empty of any important findings. She tossed the woman's gun to Zach, who caught it one handed and tucked it in the waistband of his jeans.

"You found me. I want my journal back," Beth said, extending a hand outward expectantly.

"You didn't leave that for us?" Amy questioned, appalled by Beth's request.

"Of course not," Beth responded a matter of factly, "Why would I give you my hit list? So you can charge me for more crimes than I care to admit?"

"Then why did you tell me the location?"

"A lapse of judgment on my part," Beth replied coolly, "But since you have it, be sure to cross Kaitlin Goode's name off of that list for me."

"Why are you acting like this?" Max demanded, angry that Beth was acting like she was never friends with either of them, "We know that you saved Amy's life at the rally and just now; we know that you care. We came to find you to confirm that you're not really working for the Circle!"

"Do I though?" Beth said, "I didn't let Amy die because I knew the only way to lure Kaitlin out of hiding was to leave a mission unfinished. And I didn't save you; I've been wanting to kill Kaitlin for a long time now."

"But you just said 'it's either them or her' so you care!" Amy countered, not wanting to believe that Beth didn't have any intentions of saving their lives at all.

"I have no reason to kill you. Yet."

"You don't have to do this," Max tried to reason, "Just tell us that you're a double agent and working against the Circle. If you tell us, then you won't be alone; we'll be in this together."

"In this together?" Beth questioned, followed by a chuckle in disbelief, "The difference between you and me is that this is my legacy. Unlike you, I'm no coward. I won't run from it. Your emotions have made you weak, just like your brother. No wonder he died."

That was Max's breaking point. Without warning, he lunged forward at Beth, throwing a punch that would had landed squarely on jaw if she hadn't spun on her heels and dodged the blow. Max got to strike two more times before Zach grabbed him from under his shoulders and pulled him back from Beth. Max struggled against Zach's restraint upon seeing Beth's smug smile.

"Why are you helping her?" Max yelled, still squirming in Zach's hold.

Sensing that Max wasn't going to make any progress in breaking out of Zach's hold, Max resorting to attacking Beth verbally, "You were the one who killed my brother. You have no right to mention him at all!"

"I was just helping the Circle eradicate the weak," Beth replied calmly, "The audacity that both of you had to trust me. Like I said, both of you are idiots."

"Then prove us wrong!" Amy pleaded, "Prove to us that we weren't wrong in believing in you."

Beth seemed to hesitate for a few seconds before replying, "Why should I?"

"You care."

"Don't lie to yourself anymore. And don't come after me anymore."

"Like hell-!" Max started, but stopped when he heard the sound of a gunshot and pain exploding in his left arm. He almost couldn't believe what he was seeing. Beth, with her gun pointed in his direction. His left arm, oozing blood from the bullet that grazed him.

Zach had acted on instinct, releasing Max, and pulling his own gun out to point it at Beth, but the look in her eyes prevented him from pulling the trigger. He knew what that shot was: a warning. Her final warning.

"That's your final warning. Don't come after me."

And then she was gone.

* * *

 **A/N: Hello guys!**

 **This definitely wouldn't be a Gallagher Girl story if there wasn't any sneaking out of the school involved, so here it is!**

 **So, I'm excited to announce that this story is coming to an end very soon. There's only going to be three more chapters and a very short epilogue, so I hope you guys are as excited as I am to finish up this story. I'm going to miss these characters, so I plan on writing some special chapters to fill in some missing events. Let me know what you would like to read; I'm definitely taking requests!**

 **As always, thank you for reading! It means for you to have made it so far into this OC centric story; I know that I tend to shy away from those types of stories too, so thank you for sticking with me!**

 **Until next time!**

 **-MM**


	16. Chapter 16

I don't know how I found the strength in me to pull the trigger on Max. Even if my childhood memories of him were probably lost forever, somehow during the short time that he was at Gallagher, he had somehow wormed his way back into my heart.

When I heard that Max was going to sacrifice himself to the Circle to act as a double agent, my heart ached for him.

When Max told me that he thought I didn't care about him at the P&E barn, my heart was crushed. But that was exactly what he needed to think because there was no way I would ever let him know exactly how much I cared for him. And all the things I did because I cared for him.

When Max had left me to get Amy out of the stadium, my heart stopped. He was gone; he was going to join the Circle. So I had gone after him, knowing exactly what I needed to do to keep him safe.

When I saw Max's betrayed look in his eyes when I faced off against his uncle, my heart cracked. The look told me that he would never trust me again. The look told me that if circumstances required, he would have the resolve to kill me. But I followed through with my plan because it was too late to turn back now. Too late.

When I saw Kaitlin point her gun at Max and Amy, about to fire off her third shot, I acted on instinct and pulled the trigger. With the precise aim that I knew that I had, I had hit my mark and killed her. I had killed her when I told myself that I was going to keep her alive to interrogate her. But all of that went out of my head when I saw Max and Amy in danger. It was only in the aftermath did I realize that I lost my last chance to get my memories back. But it didn't matter. Max was safe.

When Max told me that he still thought I cared about him, my heart longed to agree with him, but it mattered not what my heart wanted. My mind was in control and my mind was set on following through my plan,

When Max came after me, my heart knew I deserved a punch, but my mind told my body to dodge his blows. I couldn't appear weak, not now, not ever, especially not in front of Max.

My mind was the one who told me to pull the trigger. My mind was in control, but my heart was the one who shattered when I saw the blood gushing out of Max's arm. Granted, I had deliberately aimed somewhere that wouldn't have killed him, but it didn't matter. I harmed him. I had to follow through. Since I already started it, I had to finish it. There was no other way.

When Zach made eye contact with me, I knew that he understood my intentions. Perhaps there was only two people in the entire world who would understand me. Solomon and Zach. But I didn't want to have a third person understand. If my plan succeeded, there wouldn't have to be another to understand.

I had to do this. I could do this. I would do this, even if it took my life. It was worth it.

So when I left the scene that day, I allowed myself to feel once more, to cry my heart out, to lament of the life I could of had, to pity myself just once for having to be the one to carry the burden, to console myself that I was happy at one point in my life.

That moment of weakness was over all too soon. From that moment forward, I collected the remaining shards of my heart, pieced them back together and sealed it inside a metal container, never to be cracked open again.

 _Goodbye Max…_

* * *

 **Two Years Later**

As a full fledged operative, the first thing Max made sure of was to be placed on the team that was tracking down the Circle. Although there was a lot of doubts about Max's own loyalty considering his heritage, the CIA eventually saw his commitment and granted his request. The main leaders of the team were Agent Townsend and Agent Cameron, which Max had gotten to known very well in the last two months. When Solomon wasn't teaching at Gallagher, he was heavily involved in tracking down the Circle, much like he was now since Gallagher had let out for the summer, letting Max see first hand exactly how it was supposed to be done. Especially seeing it in action from an operative who devoted the majority of his life to taking down the Circle.

As expected, Zach was also very involved on the team. Joining the team had allowed Max to meet Zach for the first time in two years. Ever since Zach had held him back from going after Beth, Max had never quite forgiven him and Zach didn't ask for forgiveness. Instead, Zach left him with six words, "Some things you won't ever understand," and disappeared.

Some other operatives that Max heard of before were Cammie, Grant, and Bex, but had never actually met them in person until he joined the team. None of his classmates had joined him; they had gone on to become regular operatives with no one specific target in mind. Even Amy, the one who would have been the most likely to join him, had decided to join the Secret Service having been inspired by Macey. Amy had given up all hope on Beth, Max knew, and perhaps deep down inside him, he had too. Except he didn't like loose ends.

As a full fledged operative, Max finally learned of the things that had been kept from him two years ago, which made Zach's statement make a little bit of sense, but he still had a lot of unanswered questions. The journal that Beth was talking about wasn't simply just a hit list like she made it out to be, but also a list. A list of all the known Circle members and their familial connections, if any. A comprehensive list that even listed people who partnered with the Circle, but wasn't officially members and even the smallest lackeys, as the CIA found out when they began tracking all of the people who were still alive.

What surprised Max the most was that Solomon and Zach were once listed in the journal and Solomon had been a target. If Solomon had been surprised when he saw the book, he didn't show it. Max had finally understood what Beth meant about it being her legacy, when he saw the lines that connected Ioseph Cavan to her own name. The descendant of the original founder of the Circle.

For the past two years, the CIA had begun hunting down everyone on the list and taking them in for questioning. At first, most of the ones they were able to find were the Circle's lackeys or people who had just been paid to get the job done. However over time, the CIA was able to arrest some of the higher ranking Circle members and interrogate them. Some remained firmly silent, while others cracked under the pressure, revealing valuable information that led the CIA to their next finding. With the help of the list, the CIA had been able to purge all of the double agents within their own organization, before going on to aid the Secret Service, Interpol, FBI, and MI6 to find their moles.

The most interesting captive had been the double agent, currently posing as a CIA agent, that had tipped Amy off about the explosion. Unexpectedly, he talked freely and shared all the information he knew about the Circle and all of the details of the explosion. He confirmed that Beth had been involved in orchestrating Amy's escape although he didn't have any idea of her true intentions. All he knew was that Beth had found him one day, knowing that he had a personal vendetta against the Circle, and recruited him to help. He agreed to help on the condition that Beth would help him kill Buchanan, which Beth followed through on.

As he was pretending to be a mole in the CIA for the Circle, he had multiple connections to some of the higher ups. After giving away the location of all of their safe houses, the CIA conducted a raid three months ago and captured some of the people that they had spent two years trying to locate. To date, the Circle was starting to crumble apart after the loss of many of their members and some of their leaders.

What was surprising was that by the time the CIA had gotten to some of the members, they were already found dead. The CIA suspected that other Circle members had killed them before the CIA could capture them, knowing that they were going to talk. But the double agent told them that most of them were just lackeys who wouldn't have any valuable information to share.

And now, the only members on the list that the CIA hadn't captured, claimed dead, or MIA, were Edwards and Beth. Of course, there were still many Circle members out there whose name wasn't on that list, but the CIA's current priority was to track down Edwards, as he was known to be the spearhead of the revival of the Circle. Townsend also added on to the fact that it made no sense to go after Beth, since everything she knew was written in the journal.

A valuable asset, Townsend had claimed, But a dangerous enemy.

Because of that, the CIA hadn't made any moves to go after Beth although she was next on their list if Edwards didn't cough up any useful information. Nevermind that they would have to go after her eventually, as she had upgraded herself from a wanted criminal in the United States to a wanted criminal internationally. Having been responsible for a lot of assassinations of political officials all over the world made her an enemy of a lot of countries, even if most of those officials were considered to be corrupt.

The last three months had been spent tracking down Edwards. The closest that they had gotten was to finding one of his safehouses, in which they determined Edwards had left only a week prior. Still, a week too late. After three months with virtually no progress, the CIA had been discussing on whether or not to change their direction. To change their direction would mean tracking down Beth, who was equally hard to find, but more visible than Edwards, since she had been making headlines consistently. Even so, she wasn't all that easy to find either.

Max had tried during the summer between his junior and senior year. He had gone back to Blackthorne for the summer like he always did since he didn't have a family to go home to. Unlike Gallagher, Blackthorne didn't care if he was missing, so he was surprised when Gallagher had sent a team to retrieve the seven of them when they snuck out two years ago. Blackthorne didn't care enough to even notice that he had left for the entire summer. But Max came back empty handed and full of disappointment.

For two months, Max had wandered around aimlessly, going to all the places that he thought Beth would had gone, but it turns out that he didn't know her well enough to predict where she might be. Or she knew him well enough to know all of the places he would go and avoided those places.

When Max couldn't find Beth, he went looking for his uncle; something he wasn't exactly proud of. However that had just been a futile attempt on his part and ended with the same result: Max came back empty handed.

After another two weeks of no progress, the CIA finally made a breakthrough. No one commented on Zach's bloody torso when he stumbled into the CIA headquarters yesterday. No one asked where Zach had went when pulled another one of his disappearing acts. No one bothered to usher him to the medical ward; all of their eyes were fixated on a piece of paper that had been stained with blood that Zach held up in the air victoriously before he promptly collapsed to the floor due to blood loss. It was only then did chaos break loose, with Solomon carefully retrieving the paper from Zach's hands before the medics whisked him away with Cammie following after them in concern.

"What is it?" Bex ventured to ask, "What was worth Zach risking his life for?"

"He intercepted a dead drop note," Solomon began carefully, his eyes scanning the paper a second time, almost as if he didn't quite believe what he was seeing, "The Circle has sent the message that they are to regroup in three day's time."

"FIgures," Bex huffed, "They finally noticed that their forces are diminishing rapidly. All of our work in getting rid of the lackeys didn't go to waste after all."

There was still a piece of information missing, Max noticed, and judging from the way Solomon's face paled slightly, it must have been a place very familiar to him, if not to all of them.

"Did it state a location?" Max dared to ask. Wordlessly, Solomon handed over the paper to him and Max took it hesitantly. His eyes scanned over the same words that Solomon had read, before finally taking in the two letters at the bottom.

 _BI._

 _Blackthorne Institute._

After recruiting Liz and Jonas to scour the Internet of the Circle's commonly used sites for dead drop messages, provided courtesy of the double agent, they both confirmed the same thing. The message that Zach had intercepted wasn't a decoy. The same message had been transmitted over several channels, to get the word out as much as possible. This was the CIA's chance to take down the Circle for good. Their only chance.

While Zach took the next two days to recover, the CIA was busy with preparations on the take down of the Circle. Although the CIA's director was reluctant, he eventually agreed that a smaller team was a better option to avoid drawing attention, but had ordered two extra teams to standby. At Zach's insistence and stubbornness, he was eventually placed on the infiltration team, making the team ten members large.

Their team was made up of ten of the most seasoned operatives, save for Max who was a recent graduate. But they weren't only seasoned in the sense of time, but rather for their experiences with the Circle. Which made them the perfect candidates for this mission, but also the riskiest due to their personal ties and emotional connections.

Despite Townsend being the official operation leader, he gladly let Solomon take over the planning of this particular operation. No one argued with Solomon on his expertise and experience with the Circle as he spent more than half of his life devoted to the takedown of the particular group.

During the entire drive to Blackthorne, Solomon drilled into all of their minds the exact plan. And all of the backup plans that Solomon had crafted alongside with the original plan. Regardless of the method, all of the plans had the same goal: capture Edwards and any other higher ups. Once the leaders were down, then the rest of the organization would crumble.

It was easier said than done. Especially not when a five foot brunette girl plagued Max's mind during the entire drive. Especially not when Max dreamed of himself letting her escape rather than capturing her like he should have done. Especially not when Max woke up with the resolve to kill her.

To end it once and for all.

* * *

 **A/N: Hello guys!**

 **So I'm probably going to be posting a lot faster now because I officially finished writing the entirety of this story and I am super excited to share it with you guys. At this point, there are two more chapters to go and an epilogue as well as a bonus chapter that I had been working on recently just to satisfy my own curiosity (I'm still deciding whether or not I should post it).**

 **I honestly can't believe that I managed to finish this, since I have a notorious reputation of not finishing things (as evident by the numerous documents that are left uncompleted on my computer).**

 **So here it is. The calm before the storm.**

 **I hope all of you enjoy and thank you for reading! As always, let me know what you think. :)**

 **Until next time!**

 **-MM**


	17. Chapter 17

Blackthorne Institute was probably one of the Circle's most visible, but yet not obvious safe houses of all time. Following the aftermath of the fall of the main branch, Solomon had taken over and changed the curriculum at Blackthorne to make it less of a school for assassinations and more of a school for spies. If I hadn't witnessed the event myself, I wouldn't have believed that even Joe Solomon, a seasoned triple agent who had nine lives and a legendary legend in the CIA and on top of the Circle's hit list, had made a rookie mistake of leaving Blackthorne to Mark Decker, a trusted classmate. Except the difference between Solomon and Decker was that Decker was no triple agent, not even a double agent. He was an agent wholeheartedly dedicated to the Circle's cause.

The then spy in training school reverted back to its assassinations in training. Regular faculty was one by one replaced with those loyal to the Circle and most of Blackthorne's graduates would automatically be recruited by the Circle. Year by year, Blackthorne produced enough graduates to finally revive the Circle.

But now, the Circle was calling for an emergency meeting, no doubt to discuss our dwindling numbers. When the CIA first began cracking down on the Circle, we hadn't lost anyone important, so the Circle had chalked it up to their own carelessness, but when some higher ups were captured, the Circle began suspecting that there was a leak. Their investigation led them to find out it was Ben Anderson, but he was captured by the CIA before the Circle could get to him.

Being apart of the small group of trusted Circle leaders, when I got word that they were heading after Ben, I immediately took matters into my own hands and tipped the CIA off about his location. Seeing that he had played a part of helping me save Amy from the explosion, there was no way I was going to let him die. At least under the CIA's supervision, they would keep him alive as long as he was willing to talk. And talk he did.

The information that he revealed to the CIA had been detrimental to the Circle, forcing Edwards to call for an emergency meeting. I was responsible for notifying all of the members through the unofficial dead drop channels, but for a good measure, I took the time to track down some of the more important members and personally informed them. And I may or may not have noticed Zachary Goode on my tail and deliberately let him follow me as I delivered the message. What happened afterwards I didn't know as it would be too suspicious if I stuck around, but I would find out soon.

As an organization who used to be tens of thousands members strong before the main branch crumbled, it was a shame to see barely a hundred members in attendance to the emergency meeting. Granted, a lot of our members were outside of the country, but America should have at least a thousand active members. By Edwards' estimate, there was probably less than five hundred since the CIA began cracking down on them. Many of the lackeys most likely went into hiding.

But that didn't matter. The one hundred that were in attendance were the one hundred that were the most crucial to the Circle's operation.

Edwards led the meeting, even though everyone knew that there was still someone else above him. But that someone else had never shown his face in the time that I had been working for the Circle and always sent Edwards or Decker in his stead.

"The CIA has been cracking down on us," Edwards began as if we all weren't already aware of this fact, "We need to tighten down on our operations and our safe houses. A number of them have already been taken over, so don't return to any old ones. Our funds have been running low recently due to our loss in numbers, so take any jobs that you possibly can. This is going to be a battle of time. We just need to hold out until the CIA gives up on us."

"What if they don't?" called out one of the members responsible for weapons, Sanders, "Supplies have been suffering lately since the CIA has cut off some of our partnerships with overseas groups."

"The CIA hasn't been able to find anything for three months," Edwards responded, "We'll have to stall a little longer then we create a distraction for them."

"What kind of distraction?" Richards asked.

"We start another war," Edwards responded a matter of factly, as if that was the best idea that he had. Except everyone else in the room didn't think that was the best idea.

"You mean after we failed to start one two times already?" Decker responded drily, earning chuckles from a good number of the members present in the room, "Bethany has already killed a number of foreign officials and that has only succeeded in causing civil unrest in their own countries. We need to find a way to spread it. Pit country against country."

"We'll plant evidence that the United States was the one behind the assassination," Edwards suggested, "But we'll have to go big with this attack. A country that has the manpower to wage war against the United States."

"Canada," Waters tossed out, "But I don't see how this required an emergency meeting. It's dangerous to call us all together especially when the CIA is tracking us down."

"There are moles in the Circle," Decker was the one to respond, "We need to work together to eliminate them. Then we can safely proceed with our plans."

"And how can you be sure that no one here is a mole?" Williams questioned.

"Oh there are," Edwards said, "But they're not making it out of here alive." Without warning, Edwards whipped out his gun, aiming it straight at Smith, and pulling the trigger. All of the members watched as his dead body crumpled to the ground, with blood staining the marble of the Blackthorne ballroom. Edwards eyes roamed around the room, surveying every member, before landing on me for five seconds too long. Long enough to send chills down my spine. Long enough to know that he was giving me my final warning.

I had done a lot of questionable things during my time at the Circle, like killing off other Circle members, but no one that I killed had been enough to deem me as a traitor. I chalked off each murder as me having a personal feud against them, which wasn't unnecessarily true. Killing Buchanan had raised a lot of uproars as he was a valuable asset, but I was able to defend myself by stating that he was better off dead than in the hands of the CIA.

Regardless, Edwards was onto me. Killing Smith had been a warning solely meant for me as Smith was the last person I had been in contact with before arriving at Blackthorne. None of that mattered, as I didn't intend on either of us making it out of Blackthorne alive. Not tonight.

As Edwards continued on with the matters at hand, I tuned him out as I became more focused on the shadows that slinked along on the ceiling. Even though my eyes were riveted forward to the stage, the corner of my eyes followed the shadows and began counting.

Three of them. There were certainly more stationed around Blackthorne and along the perimeter. The problem was that they didn't know who was a friend or foe, so I had to act before them. Fingering the homemade smoke bomb that I had stashed in the waistband of my jeans and covered with a loose shirt, I waited until the shadows stopped moving. After deciphering their hand signals that told me they were going to make a move a move in two minutes, I bided my time.

At one minute and thirty four seconds, Decker's eyes flickered to the ceiling for some unknown reason. At one minute thirty five seconds, I decided that if I didn't act now, it would be over for us. At one minute thirty six seconds, the smoke bomb was on the ground, sending enough smoke in the air to muffle our vision. At one minute thirty seven seconds, chaos erupted as shots rang out through the thick smoke.

There were only about twenty of us so we were greatly outnumbered by the eighty of them, but we had the element of surprise and the CIA's aid. Unlike the CIA, we aimed to kill. I took down at least five men around me, knowing that they were loyal to the CIrcle, having deliberately surrounded myself of Circle loyals beforehand before they could even react. The sixth man attempted to tackle me through the thick smoke, but with his vision impaired, he miscalculated the distance between the two of us and instead toppled to the ground as I easily dodged his attempt.

He never got back up.

When the smoke cleared, I had made my way onto the stage, with my gun jammed into Decker's side as Edwards pointed his own gun at me. Down below, I saw many dead bodies lying on the floor, while the ones who remained alive all had guns pointed at them, regardless of what side they were on. I almost cracked a smile at seeing the CIA agents mixed in with the crowd, having already subdued at least twenty Circle members. Beyond that, I didn't dare to scan the area further after spotting Cammie and Bex in the crowd for the fear that I would see Max.

"So the real leak was you all along," Edwards commented wryly, almost as if he had suspected it all along. And he should have known that a person who was blackmailed into doing their deeds wasn't going to be all that loyal. What an idiot.

I voiced those same sentiments aloud, "You were an idiot to trust me."

"The Cavan blood runs in your veins," Edwards responded, "You can't escape from your legacy, no matter how much you want to. You deluded yourself into thinking that I blackmailed you into doing the Circle's deeds, but all along it was of your own will."

I faltered for a moment before reminding myself that Edwards was trying to play mind games with me. I strengthened my resolve my jamming the gun harder into Decker's side, to the point where he let out a pained grunt.

"The CIA may take down the Circle today," Edwards continued, "But there are still hundreds of us out there. The Circle will rise again."

And then he pulled the trigger.

I saw it coming of course. Edwards had the bad habit of always pulling the trigger after he ended his words with a tone of finality. I had been too late to have seen it when he pulled the trigger on Max at the stadium, but I wasn't going to let the same mistake happen again.

With all of my strength, I let go of Decker and shoved him directly in Edwards' line of fire. Before Decker could register what was happening, the bullet met its target and buried its way into Decker's stomach. With one hand pressing on the wound, Decker fell to the floor, groaning in agony.

I didn't have time to stop and register the fact that Decker was still alive and that I was potentially leaving myself open to attack. After pushing Decker, I dropped to the ground and rolled until I crossed the distance between Edwards and myself in two seconds flat. With my gun pressed against his heart and his against my forehead, we stayed in a standstill as both of us stared at each other squarely in the eyes.

Due to our height difference, I had to strain my neck upwards to meet Edwards' cold gaze and I suppose it would have been comical if it been a different situation. I knew that the CIA most likely wanted Edwards alive and I did too so I could finally figure out who his higher up was, but it looked like I was going to have to die taking him down.

"You're braver than I thought," Edwards said with a low chuckle. He was going to pull the trigger soon, I knew and began to brace myself.

"What a pity. You would have been our greatest asset. Unfortunately-" Edwards never got to finish what he was saying because I watched as pocket knife sailed through the air, accurately burying its way into the back of his neck. Upon impact, Edwards' body slumped forward. Yanking the gun out of his hand before Edwards made impact with the ground, I side stepped as his already dead body landed with a thump.

Without Edwards obscuring my vision, I saw very clearly who had been my savior. An old man in his seventies, but with the stamina of a man in his forties. The Director of Blackthorne.

"Director?" I called out, but he wasn't paying attention to me. Instead his eyes were focused on the sea of bodies that lay still on the ground, taking in every face. He even surveyed the CIA members as well as the Circle traitors who had restrained the remaining Circle loyals. The longer that his eyes remained on the bloodshed below us, the more I began to realize something was off about him.

When his eerie gaze finally swung to me, everything fell into place for me. The Director of Blackthorne...was more than just the Director. He was the head of the Circle. He was Edwards' higher up.

"That's enough," the Director called, his voice firm. The remaining Circle loyals stopped struggling in the CIA's hold and even some of the traitors to the Circle had dropped their weapons under the influence of the Director's commanding influence. But I still held on tightly to my gun, knowing that was the only thing that was going to keep me alive tonight.

"What do you want?" I asked, barely able to keep the shakiness out of my voice. The Director's dark eyes saw right through my act, but didn't act on my fear. At least, not yet.

"You're my legacy, so you tell me," the Director responded, but all I could hear was the sound of blood rushing to my head.

 _Legacy, legacy..._ the same words that had haunted me for my entire life. And now I knew the man who was responsible for it. He had been the man who I tried to track down my whole life in attempt to piece together my family tree. All this time, the missing piece had been right in front of my face the whole time. My grandfather.

Suddenly everything I ever questioned in my life made sense. Why I was at Blackthorne, an all boys school when I didn't have family there. Why I travelled from cabin to cabin all the time, because I didn't have a home. Why I was so heavily involved in the Circle since I was young. It hadn't been the influence of my dead father, but rather my grandfather. Why I was highly trusted in the Circle, even though I did a lot of questionable things. Why I knew I wasn't going to make it out alive. Because I couldn't run away from my legacy.

"Long live the Circle of Cavan," I stated almost mechanically as if I was reciting from a textbook, "Long live the Circle of Cavan. Long live the Circle of Cavan. Long live the Circle of Cavan." As soon as those words came out of my mouth, I watched my grandfather's lips curl up into a smile, almost as if he was actually proud of me for once because I certainly had done a lot of things that disappointed him. Except his pride in me meant nothing to me anymore; I may have needed it ten years ago, but I didn't need it now. Seeing the people I cared about safe and alive was all that mattered now.

"Long live the Circle of Cavan," I continued to chant, "Long live the Circle of Cavan. Long live the Circle of Cavan. The Circle of Cavan...will die." My grandfather's smile dropped from his face as he registered my last words. He never got to do or say anything else because my bullet buried its way into his head with the deadly accurate aim that he himself cultivated. What an ironic way to die.

And then I turned the gun, the gun that I had killed so many people with tonight, onto myself, pointing straight at my heart.

"The Circle of Cavan will die with me tonight," I stated, before squeezing my eyes tightly shut. A cry of no rang out, from a very familiar, but unexpected voice.

"Beth!" the voice cried. I watched a middle aged woman pushed her way through the rest of the CIA before coming before me, front and centered, "Don't do this to yourself."

"Mom," I replied, my voice wavering as tears began to fall onto my cheeks, "Sorry I lied to you. I told you that I was going to turn myself in when all of this is over, but...I don't think I'm going to follow through on that.

I know that the biggest regret in your life was falling in love with a Cavan and then letting him escape, but dad and grandfather are dead. I'm the last Cavan alive in this world, so I'm going to let the Cavan family die with me today. Remember last time, you told me that the next time we met, we would be a CIA agent and Circle member and not mother and daughter?" I paused, waiting for the words to register into my mother's mind before I continued, "So be the CIA agent that you are and let me be the Circle member that I am."

"The CIA wants you alive," my mother replied firmly, "So the best thing you can do is to turn yourself in."

"The CIA doesn't know what I have done," I replied, my voice shaking as I began to recount all of my deeds, "When I was six years old, I killed a man who had been chained up in a house near Rome. He was helpless, unable to fight back, and had a wife and twelve year old daughter waiting for him at home. His name was Matthew Morgan and I killed him in cold blood.

When I was seven, I killed Agent Richardson and his entire family because he refused to talk. I still remembered the fear in his children's eyes when I approached them with a gun in hand. They were the same age as me. And I killed them in cold blood.

When I was nine, I killed Ambassador James in England by rigging the brakes in his car. The English diplomat and the rest of Ambassador James' family were collateral damage. And I killed them in cold blood.

When I was ten, I was left in the tunnels of Blackthorne with Marcus, a seven year old boy. He was weak and sick. I left him alone in the tunnels as I found my way out of the tunnels. I knew there was no way he could survive by himself alone. I left him to die in cold blood.

When I was twelve, I found Cammie in the streets of Rome and pretended to be a lost child. And then I led Cammie straight to the Circle. I watched her undergo torture in the same place that I killed her father. I watched the Circle erase her memories and purposely let her escape, knowing that she would never be mentally the same. I let all of that happen in cold blood.

When I was fourteen, I received orders to infiltrate Gallagher. So I did. And I fooled everyone, the students and faculty alike. And leaked information. All of it was an act.

When I was sixteen, I attempted to kill Princess Amirah, a Gallagher Girl. Her family and Senator Hunter's family were collateral damage. They didn't have to die; it wasn't written in the plan, but I still let them die. In cold blood.

And currently, I'm going to redeem myself of all the crimes I had committed by taking down the Circle with me.

I'm sorry."

And then it was dark.

* * *

 **A/N: Hello guys!**

 **So this was the big reveal and the official take down of the Circle. Sorry to leave you guys on a cliffhanger, but I had to do at least one time, you know?**

 **Anyways, I realized that in this chapter, Beth is actually very focused on what was happening before her, so she didn't really get to pay attention to anyone else around her. Out of my own curiosity, I wrote another version of this chapter from Max's POV. If you guys are interested in reading it, let me know and I will post after chapter 18 (because it contains minor spoilers of 18). If not, I'll just leave this story as it is.**

 **TWO MORE CHAPTERS GUYS! We are officially reaching the end!**

 **Thank you for reading! Until next time!**

 **-MM**


	18. Chapter 18

_Cameron Ann Morgan. When I first received the name of my target, it sounded familiar and after digging up some information, I realized Cameron Morgan was Uncle Matt's daughter. Not that I had any privilege to call him that anymore, since I was the one who was responsible for his death. For once, I was just grateful that this mission was atypical to the rest of my assassination missions. At least this time, I didn't have to kill the girl._

 _Ally had tipped me off that Cammie was in Europe, so I spent the next two weeks chasing the trail of a pavement artist all over Europe until I found her trail in Rome. Those two weeks were spent being haunted by the thoughts of Matthew Morgan, of the man I killed six years ago. Despite being plagued with the image of a dead man's face every time I closed my eyes, I carried through with my mission._

 _I positioned myself in the middle of the bustling street market, a street that Cammie would definitely take after leaving the embassy. True to her pavement artist nature, Cammie took the street where I was located. It was crowded. It was open. There were plenty of escape routes. Cammie was too predictable._

 _Even with her dyed black hair, I still recognized her. As she began walking in my direction, I almost wished that Cammie wouldn't fall into my trap. I wished that she wasn't that predictable, that sympathetic to be fooled by a child, but I knew that I was sent on this particular mission because I never failed. If I failed now, it would be too suspicious. Unreluctantly, I followed through my mission._

 _In the middle of the street, I began to cry, quietly sobbing at first before my cries became louder. I wandered aimlessly around the street, circling around a few times, letting myself bump into busy market goers even though I could have easily dodged them with my quick reflexes._

 _All too predictably, Cammie couldn't ignore the cries of a helpless child and came to my side. She squatted down so she was my height and whispered soothing words until my cries finally died down to quiet hiccups._

" _What's wrong?" Cammie asked, with the same gentle voice. It almost made me regret that I was leading her to a trap._

" _I'm lost," I whimpered in Italian, making sure to emphasize the fear in my voice, "I lost my mother in the crowd. I think she might have gone home but I'm scared to go back by myself." The being scared to go back wasn't exactly a lie since I never liked the house ever since I went there when I was six years old, but I wasn't Italian and my mother certainly wasn't waiting for me at the house. The Circle were._

" _Come on," Cammie said with a bright smile on her face, "I'll walk you home." Cammie extended a hand outward and I took it, feeling slightly guilty that I was taking advantage of her kindness._

 _The entire walk to the house had been a cheerful one and the conversation that Cammie roped me into made me forget where we were headed for a little bit. She asked me about my life and I fed her the story I had carefully crafted as part of my cover and I asked her about hers. Perhaps, if I could learn something useful from her, then Cammie wouldn't have to go through the torture at all._

 _But like a true spy, Cammie's lips were sealed tight as she only revealed fake information about her life. I only knew because I had researched everything there was to know about her beforehand._

 _All too soon, we arrived at the house. Cammie let go of my hand and was getting ready to bid me farewell when Circle members surrounded the two of us. Despite Cammie's attempts to fight back, the Circle members managed to subdue her in a matter of seconds._

 _I could never forget the betrayed look in Cammie's eyes when Catherine looked at me and told me good job. I could never forget the murderous look in her eyes when she realized that she had been played. I could never forget the way Cammie screamed when Catherine tortured her in the basement._

 _Like a true spy, Cammie kept quiet, but that didn't stop her from screaming every time Catherine decided it was time to torture her. Despite all of the torture, Cammie never uttered a single word from her lips._

 _Once when Cammie was unconscious and Catherine was out running some errands, I brought Cammie a glass of water, much like how I did with Uncle Matt six years ago. Once I was finished, I sank to the floor, fingering the letters carved into the wood of the bed frame. Taking out a pocket knife, I added three more letters next to the original three._

 _M.A.M. C.A.M._

 _Catherine came back with a man named Dr. Steve who tried to brainwash Cammie into telling him what she knew. Even under the influence of Dr. Steve's mind games, he gained nothing of importance. After a week of trying, Dr. Steve chalked it up to the environment._

 _Cammie needed to be a comfortable environment, Dr. Steve had said, Otherwise her mind will continue to resist me._

 _Catherine agreed with Dr. Steve and commissioned Dr. Baron for a serum that would wipe all of her memories for the summer. After wiping her memories and testing Cammie to make sure that she didn't remember anything, Catherine set her free._

 _Where Cammie went, I didn't know. Where Catherine went, I didn't know. All I knew was that Dr. Steve was going to infiltrate Gallagher and be right at Cammie's side when she returned. And get the information out of her that way._

 _And I did nothing to stop all of that from happening._

* * *

THE PROS AND CONS OF BEING HELD IN CIA CUSTODY:

PRO: I didn't have to run anymore.

CON: I was in a glorified version of jail.

PRO: On the account that I was injured, I had a bed.

CON: My injuries hurt like hell.

PRO: I wasn't dead.

CON: I wasn't dead.

I don't exactly remember what exactly happened. It was all a blur to me, but I distinctly remembered waking up for the first time to blinding white lights and attempting to pull the needles out of my arm. There was a lot of beeping, a lot of people in white that was pushing me back down onto the bed. I felt a small prick somewhere on my left arm and suddenly all of the beeping stopped, and the white faded into darkness.

When I came to the second time, I was more conscious and less violent than the first. At least, not violent enough for the doctors to drug me again. A lot of unfamiliar people came and went, asking all sorts of questions, some pertaining to my wellbeing, while others concerned my involvement with the Circle.

All of those questions went unanswered.

The roles had finally reversed. I used to be the one to ask questions, but never the one interrogated, so it was foreign feeling, but not necessarily bad. Regardless, I didn't answer any questions, simply because I didn't have the right answer to any of those questions. Perhaps they were better off with asking me yes or no questions.

Time passed, but I wasn't sure how much time had passed. Eventually the doctors had deemed me fit to be released from the medical ward, where I was transferred to an actual jail cell, where I was chained down. I supposed that there wasn't much of a change at all, except instead of being met with blinding shades of white every time I opened my eyes, I was greeted with drabs of gray. A downgrade for sure.

Sleep. Eat. Think. The pro of being in an actual jail cell was that there was no one to bother me so that I had a lot of time to think. The con was that I had too much time to think. While my memories always started off happy, they would eventually drift off into the more unpleasant memories.

It was also that which made me realize I had way more unpleasant memories than pleasant memories. Not a pleasant realization at all.

An indefinite amount of time later, I was finally greeted with a familiar face, looking like he had aged many years. And I suppose that it wasn't entirely all that impossible if I had been held in custody for years, but I doubt it. They wouldn't wait that long to try to get answers out of me although I wasn't sure that I had any left to give.

"Beth." This was the first time that he had actually addressed me by my first name. In CoveOps class, it was always Ms. Anderson. After my defection, it had always been my full name, as if to remind him of my legacy every time he said my name.

"Mr. Solomon," I greeted, for old times sake. Perhaps I wanted to use my former address to him to maintain a semblance of normality or perhaps I just didn't know how I should address him anymore.

Mr. Solomon took a seat across from me. The CIA could have sent anyone else that I knew and I still would have talked, but I was glad that they chose Mr. Solomon. Because he was the only one in the world who could possibly understand exactly what I was feeling.

"You can ask me anything," I said, deciding that it was time to become openly honest. No more hiding information, no more lying, "But I'm not sure I'll have all of the answers."

"Let's start with your motives," Mr. Solomon replied calmly.

"I'm not sure," I replied honestly, "I had a lot of different motives depending on the situation, but I think the main reason was so that I could protect Max."

"Elaborate."

"When the Circle realized that they were losing their control on me as I grew up and formed my own thoughts, Edwards threatened to kill Max if I didn't listen to him. I never got my memories of Max back, but I know that he was a very important person to me. I couldn't let him die and I wasn't strong enough to protect him from Edwards, so I carried out the Circle's mission. Before that, I was too young to know any better."

"Tell me about Matthew Morgan." Mr. Solomon was Matthew Morgan's best friend, so I knew that the question was going to come up eventually, but I hadn't anticipated it would come so soon. The least I could do was give him a peace of mind.

So I told him everything about the three days that I spent with him in detail, right up to the point where I killed him. Mr. Solomon took all of the information in stride, but I knew that he was hurting on the inside.

And so his questions continued in the same manner. Mr. Solomon would ask me to tell him about a certain event and I would describe all to him in detail. Those questions were easier to answer because it was just simply me recounting the memory verbally rather than the open ended questions that I wasn't sure how to answer.

Eventually the easy questions ended and Mr. Solomon started asking the hard questions. I hated those questions simply because I didn't have a clear answer for them.

"Did you intend to kill Amy?"

"I don't know. It was an order from Edwards, so I carried it out. I think when I started to regret it the night before the rally after I dreamed of all the time I spent with Amy. So I devised a plan to get her out of there. Even though I think I convinced myself that I was doing it so I could lure Kaitlin Goode out of hiding, I really just didn't want to see her dead. She was my first genuine friend in a long time."

"Are you loyal to the Circle?" Even if I had managed to force an answer out for all the other hard questions, this was the one question I really didn't have an answer to. And my answer was probably going to determine my sentence. I could have lied and said no, but I decided that if I was going to be honest for once in my life, it was going to be now.

So I settled for an "I don't know," and that had been the end of the interrogation.

For once in my life, I didn't know what was going to happen to me. I had always been in control of everything that happened and even thought I was going to be able to die by my own hands. Now, my life was in the CIA's hands and I had no idea what they were going to do to me. It was a foreign feeling to me, not being in control, but I was surprisingly okay with it.

I was tired of planning, following said plans, and executing other people's plans. For once, I just wanted to live. No missions, no hidden motives.

I was free.

* * *

For the most part, I was left to my own devices and eventually the CIA trusted me enough to not have me chained up anymore. There was always a stoic guard stationed in front of my door, four different ones who switched at every six hour interval albeit at different times everyday, so I couldn't catch onto their pattern in the event I decided I wanted to escape. None of them bothered to make small talk with me and I returned the favor of silence to them although the youngest of the four had thrown some curious glances my way when he was first assigned to watch over me.

My visitors were people that I was acquainted with, yet each time they came, they came with a mouthful of questions. Difficult questions. Questions that I didn't particularly want to answer, knowing that they wouldn't like the answer. But I did it anyways.

The first to come after Solomon was Bex, who dragged along a bored looking Grant. While Bex grilled me on all of the details of what happened at the charity ball, Grant's eyes flickered to everywhere around the tiny room, except to me. Despite his laid back posture, seemingly lack of inattention, I knew that Grant was still listening to my every word.

So I told them all about the Circle Corporation, one of the main sources of money for the Circle. Although a seemingly legal corporation from the outside, a lot of money laundering occurred through the company. Eventually I had established an alias as Elizabeth Caves, the sole heir of the Circle Corporation. I organized the charity ball to be held right after the Hunter rally and auctioned off the necklace, knowing that it would attract Buchanan out of hiding.

"CIA's presence wasn't part of the plan," I confessed, admitting that Bex and Grant's presence had thrown me off during that time, "From the moment that Buchanan walked through the doors, he wasn't going to leave alive, but I wanted to fish information out of him before he died. Unfortunately, when I felt the two of you on my tail, I had to kill him quickly before you got your hands on him."

"That necklace…" Bex started, but trailed off leaving the rest unsaid.

"It's not a Circle heirloom," I confirmed, "My father proposed to my mother with that necklace because he figured she would be less likely to lose it, especially in her line of work."

"Did you ever-"

"Yes, I did," I cut her off, knowing exactly what she was going to ask. There was a lot of things I regretted, but it was too late to turn back now.

Macey was the next to come, armed with a lot of questions regarding what happened at the rally. How we managed to sneak in and plant the bomb despite their numerous sweeps of the area before the event. How many were double agents. That had been one of the easier questions to answer, I thought, as I watched Macey fold up the list of names I had just given her. In the end, I gave her a play by play of exactly what happened that day, except unlike other missions, there hadn't been a Plan B that day. Either our plan worked or it didn't. Either Amy made it out alive or she didn't. Either I managed to locate Macey in the crowd of thousands or I didn't. Either Amy was going to be found or she wasn't. There had been a lot of risks, a lot of unknown variables, a lot of unknown situations and I made the biggest gamble of my entire life during that day.

Townsend was more straightforward; he just wanted a list of all the Circle members that I was aware of that were still active. I spent the next three days making a comprehensive list of all of the members and their last known locations. For a good measure, I even gave him a comprehensive list of all known Circle safehouses and frequent trading points. When he came back to retrieve the list, he took one look at it and nodded in approval. On his way out, Townsend paused for a moment before turning back to ask me one last question.

"That day in town, how did you know who I was?"

"Seven years ago in London, when you were tailing Joe Solomon, I tailed you."

"And I don't suppose you found anything of importance?"

"Only that you underestimate children," I replied, recalling with clarity the way that Townsend's eyes swept over me that day when he was scanning the crowd for possible Circle members. He hadn't found any because I had been the only one.

The tiniest hint of a smirk formed on Townsend's face as he walked out of the cell, informing me exactly what he thought of my answer.

Headmistress Morgan had wanted to know about the same thing that Mr. Solomon had: Matthew Morgan. Even though I was sure that Mr. Solomon had already told her what I had told him, the desperate look in her eyes told me that she needed to hear the story from me. So I repeated the story once again and watched Headmistress Morgan take in every word calmly.

"He told me to tell you and Cammie that he loved you both," I said, something that I had omitted in my version to Mr. Solomon.

Cammie came next, so I found myself reciting Matthew Morgan's story for the third time. That wasn't all she wanted to know however, so I found myself spending many hours answering all of her questions. The time she spent ended up being more than Bex, Townsend, Macey, and Headmistress Morgan's time combined, but I didn't mind. Her questions kept me from pacing around the room, bored out of my mind or from my mind drifting off into the more unpleasant thoughts.

Finally, Cammie asked me about the summer in Rome, a question that I had been dreading. A question that I wished she had never asked at all.

"Some things were meant to be forgotten."

Zach came to find out where all of Catherine's safehouses were. Angela came to curse me out for keeping her in the dark. Calie came to bring me a couple of books, searched and approved by the CIA of course, to keep me from being too bored. Amy came to yell at me for attempting to kill her, but to thank me all the same for saving her life. To yell at me for destroying her trust in me, but to thank me for everything I had done. The rest of the Gallagher Girls from my grade trickled in one by one as well as some of the Blackthorne Boys, but the one I wanted to see never came.

I waited and waited.

He never came.

* * *

 **A/N: Hello guys!**

 **This is the last real chapter and I hope I did well enough in tying up a couple of loose ends although there are still more to cover. :)**

 **To be honest, I really considered letting Beth die last chapter, but that would have been too easy for her. I think she deserved a chance to find her own path at life, now that she's free from the Circle.**

 **The "interrogations" were meant to be a form of closure for the rest of the characters, so I hope it turned out okay.**

 **Really can't believe this is ending. Let me know if you have any lingering questions about the story as a whole because I will be answering questions in my A/N next chapter.**

 **Next time I'm going to post a special chapter + epilogue because the epilogue is kind of short (and you might hate me for the ending) but anyways. As always, thank you for reading and until next time!**

 **-MM**


	19. Epilogue

Epilogue:

The CIA eventually released me on account of my "cooperation," but really they just did it to give an answer to the agents who had been speaking on my behalf. Surprisingly? There had been a decent amount of agents who believed that I was working against the Circle. Unsurprisingly? My mother had been the spearhead of that protest.

My mother lost her position in the CIA soon after the CIA had conducted an investigation on her past. Although she wasn't deemed guilty for conspiring with the Circle when she was involved with my father - according to my mother, she had no idea that my father was part of the Circle at the time - but was eventually deemed guilty of helping me break into the CIA's headquarters, good intentions or not. I almost wanted to argue on behalf of my mother, but my mother was surprisingly okay with the loss of her position, almost like she had been expecting it. According to my mother, at least she wouldn't have to regret not being able to help her daughter when I needed it.

As expected, I was banned from working for the CIA or any other government affiliated organization. Although some had tried to argue that my skills would be invaluable to the organization, I stopped all the arguments by claiming that I didn't want to be a spy anyways. And I truly didn't. Since I had been given a second chance at life, then the least I could do was escape my legacy. Being a spy/assassination was my legacy, but not what I wanted to do.

Sure, I didn't have a clue as to what I wanted to do since I had never bothered to entertain the idea that I actually had the choice to choose a different path, but attending college was a start. Due to Gallagher's advanced curriculum, enrolling into college wasn't all that hard and the college curriculum wasn't too overwhelming for a girl who only attended school for only about ten years of her life. That gave me a lot of time to think, to explore, to experience.

Fitting in socially had been a new challenge that I was eager to undertake. Hitting off with my roommates hadn't been as easy as my Gallagher roommates. No longer did I have the common topic of being spy to start a conversation, but rather had to traverse into civilian world. The civilian world was refreshing and surprisingly simple. Just the way I wanted it.

During the middle of my second year as an undergrad, it finally clicked for me what I wanted to do. Seeing no point in staying in college for the entire four years, I finished my bachelors in three years before going on to pharmaceutical school. Perhaps seemingly an odd choice, but I found myself enraptured in the world of medicine after being drawn in by the various chemistry courses I had taken.

There were a lot of places I could had gone: to Washington D.C. where my mother retired or stayed in Boston where I completed grad school. Instead, I found myself taking the trip down south, relocating back to Roseville, Virginia, the home to one of the happiest times in my life. Taking over Abrams & Sons pharmacy after their son had declined to take over the business, I settled into my new home.

And there I stayed, managing the business, all while experimenting with new medicines that could possibly ease some of the symptoms of incurable diseases. At some point, I would dare to venture to attempt to find a cure, but so far I haven't made much progress aside from lessening the effects of the symptoms. It was a start, but I still had a long way to go. But that was fine. I wasn't going anywhere.

After working closely with one of the local doctors, Dr. Sam Peters, he asked me out and I agreed, but only for the sake of meshing in with the civilian world. By month two, I broke it off, partly out of guilt for agreeing with underlying motives rather than because I liked him back, and partly because I simply couldn't forget the boy that continued to haunt my memories. It was either the ten year old boy who kept calling my name as I walked away that appeared in my dreams, or the sixteen year old boy who wore a betrayed look on his face.

Perhaps, I should have seen it coming, but the CIA eventually barged their way back into my life, but this time it wasn't to arrest me or keep a watch on me. Angela was the first to show up at the pharmacy, but she wasn't there to buy medication. Instead she left something on the counter and left, and it was almost like she was never there, but words didn't need to be exchanged between the two of us. Despite having crossed into the civilian world, all of my spy knowledge was still fully intact.

So I tucked the small package underneath the counter and never brought it out until a week later, an unknown operative showed up, whispering Angela's code name to me. Wordlessly, I handed over the package and with a nod of thanks, he was out of the door.

And little by little, as the CIA agents figured out that the pharmacy was one of the safest locations, I found the pharmacy becoming a popular CIA dead drop location on the side. Perhaps, the CIA had really trusted me again or that it was just out of convenience since I didn't need any explanation to what the tiny packages or notes were, but I continued to pass on messages as long as I would receive some.

A stray Circle member had caught on and attempted to break in during the night, but he was swiftly dealt with and turned in to the next CIA agent who stepped into the store. And that was probably why the CIA thought it was one of the safest dead drop locations, not because it was very obscure or hard to find, but simply because it was guarded. Guarded by someone who used to be one of the world's most wanted assassin.

Over the years, I met new operatives and connected with some old operatives that I knew from the past, whether from previous skirmishes as CIA against Circle or from my time at Gallagher. When Lucas came in one day dropping off a note for Ghost, I didn't think much of it despite it being my former code name, until Ghost showed up a month later.

Max.

Speechless, I handed over the note from Lucas, knowing that any regular conversation starter would be too awkward.

How have you been? As if a simple "good" would have covered it.

Why were you here? Max would probably give me sarcastic look because I knew exactly why he was here. Question was: did he want to be here?

What have you been up to? As if everything Max had been doing wasn't classified.

So I settled for a "I'm sorry." The 'for everything' had been left unsaid, but I was sure that Max understood what I was trying to say. At least, I would like to think that we still understand each other's underlying meanings after so long.

So when Max replied with a, "You were stupid," I instantly knew that he had forgiven me for all of the things that I had done in the past, all of the things he thought were idiotic for me to do.

"I listened in when Solomon interrogated you," Max continued, in a manner that suggested he was carrying on a casual conversation with an old friend when he was doing anything but that.

 _I already know everything,_ was what he meant to say.

"And I know you didn't let me die," I replied.

 _Why did you save me?_ was what I really wanted to know. After being left to wonder exactly how I survived, since I was pretty sure that I pressed the trigger, Zach had been the one to give me an answer. Max had fired right before I pressed the trigger. His bullet had hit its mark on my arm, the force of it pushing my arm so that I was no longer aiming at my heart, but rather at my shoulder. It was still a close call, since being in the middle of nowhere didn't exactly help with getting me to the hospital in a timely manner.

"Because you were being stupid," Max answered and I cracked a smile at his answer because one, he had confirmed that he understood my underlying messages and two, he gave me an answer.

 _I didn't want you to die._

"I wasn't the only one," I responded back.

 _You didn't come visit me._

"There was nothing that I wanted to ask you." Right as those words left his mouth, I knew it was a complete lie, but I understood what he was trying to tell me.

 _I didn't know how to face you._

"Max," I began, needing to clear up the air between us, "I never really got the memories of us back. I remembered bits and pieces over the years, but there's still a lot that's missing and I don't think I'll ever get it back."

"So what? We'll just create new ones."

* * *

Assassins come in all varieties. Some say to be a good assassin, you have to possess a heart of steel. Some say to be a good assassin, you have to be the perfect shot. Some say to be a good assassin, you have to be able to construct a weapon out of makeshift materials. Some say to be a good assassin, you have to be able to disappear, quite literally, like a Ghost after the kill.

In actuality, you needed none of those things.

Because 'good' assassins don't exist.

* * *

 **A/N: Hi! Long note ahead!**

 ****This is the official ending of the story, but click next if you want to enjoy a bonus chapter that I wrote for this story!****

 **So this is the ending. I won't be writing a sequel, but I will be adding some bonus chapters (I take requests!) depending on my inspiration. You may or may not like the ending and I understand that it's open ended and short, but Max and Beth don't need to exchange a lot of words to understand each other. I think the unwavering trust Max had in Beth, Beth's desire to protect Max at all costs, and their understanding of each other were my favorite parts about their friendship. Maybe you will think differently :)**

 **So the inspiration behind the story:**

 **After rereading the Gallagher Girls series last December, I had this idea of creating an antagonist who had been both present at Matthew Morgan's death and during Cammie's capture that summer. The original plan was to write a short story, 20k words max, about a girl with amnesia who ended up at Gallagher. During her time at Gallagher, something happens that triggers her memories and then she is finally able to give Cammie the remaining answers that she needed.**

 **And that idea somehow turned into this story, three times longer than I had intended it to be. I never thought that I was going to bring the Circle back into the story, much less make Beth a maybe double agent, since I would like to think that her intentions still aren't all that clear. I hope that I was successful in conveying her unclear intentions because I feel as a relatively young character, Beth wouldn't have clear cut motives. Except the one thing that I wanted to make very clear was her loyalty to her friends, more specifically Max. So I hope that I did a decent job at conveying that.**

 **All in all I'm glad that my original idea turned into this, even though it took half a year to complete. It was worth it.**

 **THANK YOU for sticking with me throughout this entire story, especially for one centered around an OC. As a reader myself, I know I only like to read about characters from the book, so I'm super grateful to everyone who gave this story a chance.**

 **As always, let me know what you think! And if you know any good GG stories, please recommend them to me!**

 **-MM**


	20. Bonus Chapter 1: Of Air Vents and Spies

Getting onto Blackthorne territory unnoticed wasn't the hard part. Getting into the actual building wasn't the hard part. The hard part was sneaking onto the Circle members while maintaining their element of surprise, which was no easy feat if Abigail Cameron's findings was to be believed.

Location? Blackthorne's ballroom. Number? At least a hundred. Exits? Two, through the window or the main door. Both options were undesirable, as indicated by Solomon's scrunched up expression as he took in Abigail's report.

"Looks like we're going to have to hit the air vents," Solomon stated casually as if he was suggesting going for a walk, "But I'm afraid the ducts can only hold three of us, max." Solomon pointed to himself as if to indicate that he was definitely going to be one of the three. Max jumped at the opportunity to see a bit of action, even though he was less than keen on being cramped in a tiny space. Zach sighed before volunteering himself as the third member of their party, much to Cammie's protest, but she was shot down when Zach reasoned that he knew the layout better than she did. Although Max doubted that Zach had any prior knowledge with the layout of the air ducts, Cammie relented.

Townsend and Abigail were positioned outside, by the window, sending updates in two minute intervals. Cammie and Bex resigned themselves to being positioned outside of the main door, in an attempt to listen in on the Circle's discussion. Meanwhile, Solomon had successfully taken off the metal crate and set it aside. He turned back to look at Zach and Max, cocking his head to the side as if he was questioning whether or not they were coming.

And then Solomon went in.

Zach motioned for Max to go in after Solomon and Zach took up rear. It was cramped, especially cramped for three grown men who made it over six feet. And dusty. Max mentioned that thought aloud.

"Of course, it hasn't been cleaned since the last time I came through," Solomon commented casually as if it was an everyday occurrence. Even Zach was taken aback by Solomon's statement and he thought he knew just about everything there was to know about his teacher.

"Air ducts make the best escape routes," was all Solomon said in response to Zach's inquires about why Solomon had been in the air ducts in the first place. With the way Solomon navigated through the air ducts like a pro, Zach wagered he had been here multiple times. Either that or Solomon had done an extensive study of the blueprint. The former seemed more likely, knowing Solomon.

After ten minutes of crawling through the ducts, Max's knees begin to hurt from the contact with the metal, but there was no space for him to move anywhere except forward. So he kept going, despite the throbbing pain.

"We're here," Solomon whispered into his comms unit. Solomon sprawled out flat onto his stomach, his eyes peering through the vent to see the events down below. While from the window or the main door, the others had a hard time making out the Circle's words, Solomon, Max, and Zach was able to hear every word, loud and clear.

"I see Edwards," Solomon relayed through the comms, "He's on the stage." While Solomon scanned the crowd to memorize all of the Circle members' faces, Max was preoccupied with something else entirely. Being particularly short, Beth wasn't easy to spot, but Max eventually found her, standing off to the right, about five rows away from the stage. Her eyes were fixated intently on Edwards.

And she seemed perfectly at ease, even surrounded by multiple Circle members that were twice her size.

"Decker," Solomon whispered, tearing Max's eyes off of Beth and followed Solomon's line of sight.

"Blackthorne's Decker?" Zach asked, hovering over Max to get a glimpse through the vent.

"Blackthorne's Decker," Solomon confirmed, relaying this information through the comms unit. On the other side, Grant let out a strangled choking noise upon hearing that name, being the only one besides the three of them who knew Decker personally.

"That guy," Zach stated, pointing in the general direction of a black haired man with an average build, "He's the one that I intercepted the note from."

"You could have taken him," Max whispered back, "How did he injure you?"

Zach tossed him a dirty look, before explaining, "He had help."

The three of them continued to listen in onto the Circle's discussion of their next course of action, mentally making notes on how they were going to foil their plan. Edwards was at the forefront of the discussion, with occasional members of the crowd tossing in their opinions and doubts.

Inevitably, the topic of moles within the Circle came up. Max watched his uncle whip out his gun in a matter of seconds, the sound echoing throughout the room. The three of them watched as the black haired man that Zach had intercepted the note from fall and for everyone's attention to swing onto him. Solomon relayed situation through when Townsend questioned the source of the sound, but Max was focused on Beth. Upon seeing the man die, Beth's eyes had darkened considerable and her face morphed into an unreadable expression. Beth tore her eyes away from the dead body and settled her gaze on Edwards, who had been giving her a pointed look.

"A warning," Zach commented, seeing the same thing that Max had, "Beth is part of the inner Circle so Edwards has no reason to suspect her."

Max narrowed his eyes at Zach's comment, "Are you implying that Beth isn't loyal to the Circle?"

"She isn't," Zach confirmed as Edwards brought the Circle members' attention back onto him, their dead comrade all but forgotten, "Beth just wanted you to think she was so you wouldn't interfere."

"But she told you?"

"There's only three people in the world who would understand what she is doing," Zach explained, "And one of them is dead, so there's only two of us." Zach motioned to himself and Solomon to emphasize his point. Max opened his mouth to ask another question, but Solomon cut him off with a very pointed look that meant for him to save it for later.

"It's time." With that, Solomon moved to lift up the air vent, setting it aside. Solomon stuck his head through the gap, surveying the entirety of the room, taking in some of the details that Solomon had missed due to the previously limited view. Max noted that Beth's eyes darted upwards in their directions. She pressed her lips together, eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

"What's the plan?" Zach asked.

"We jump on the count of three," Solomon stated.

"That's crazy," Max responded, but was gearing himself to jump down into the midst of a hundred Circle members who were most definitely armed.

"You haven't experienced crazy yet," Solomon replied lightly, with a small smile playing on his lips.

It turns out that Solomon didn't need to count because white smoke began to fill up the air at a rapid pace. Solomon quickly hopped out of the air duct and down below, disappearing in the smoke. Zach quickly followed right after he gave the go ahead for the rest of the CIA squad to enter into the room. Closing his eyes tightly, Max jumped, bracing himself from the impact.

Surprisingly, he landed on two feet, but Max stumbled for a couple of steps before he regained his footing. A person bumped into him and that person immediately reached out to grab him, but Max fought back, managing to knock the figure over. Despite the tears that had formed in the corner of Max's eyes and the cough that threatened to overtake him, Max managed to securely pin the man to the ground.

Gunshots pierced through the air and Max desperately hoped that none of his comrades were the ones being hit, but there wasn't much he could do until the smoke cleared the air. In fact, Max didn't even know if the man beneath him was a friend or foe, but Max didn't want to take any chances.

When the smoke cleared, Max was met with the side of many Circle members lying on the ground, some already gone still, while others continued to writhe in pain. Some that were Circle members were subduing other Circle members.

Double agents, Max thought to himself.

CIA were scattered around the room; some subduing Circle members, while others had their guns pointed right at the stage. Where Beth, Decker and Edwards were having a standoff. Beth's gun was jammed into Decker's side while Edwards' gun was pointing at her. Decker's gun laid a few feet away, out of his reach.

"So the real leak was you all along," Edwards commented, and Max almost snorted to himself. As if Edwards didn't already long suspect Beth, judging from his spectacle of killing the black haired man to serve as a warning.

His family was crazy, Max thought to himself. He considered it a miracle that he turned out alright, despite being influenced by his father and uncle, who seemed to be competing to be the most insane.

"You were an idiot to trust me," Beth responded back and Max smiled to himself. In the end, Beth had been on their side all along, even if she didn't want to admit it to him.

"The Cavan blood runs in your veins. You can't escape from your legacy no matter how much you want to. You deluded yourself into thinking that I blackmailed you into doing the Circle's deeds, but all along it was of your own will." Judging from the shocked looks on some of the Circle members' faces, it was clear that Beth's heritage hadn't been exactly well known. Even after the CIA tried digging up Beth's lineage, they still only came up with Beth being the descendant of Ioseph Cavan, the original founder of the Circle. The identities of all of the generations in between were still unknown.

Max heard Decker let out a groan of pain as Beth jammed the gun harder into his side.

"The CIA may take down the Circle today," Edwards was saying, but Max's attention was more focused on that fact that his finger was so close to pushing the trigger, "But there are hundreds of us out there. The Circle will rise again."

Edwards fired. Instinctively, Max's body lurched forward, as if he was going to run onto the stage and block the bullet, but his mind forced his body to remain rooted to his position. Even if he had moved, there was no way Max would make it in time and he would leave himself vulnerable to attack from the Circle member that he had subdued.

Max watched as Beth reacted within a split second and released her hold on Decker, shoving him right into Edwards' line of fire. While Beth had reacted quickly, by the time Decker registered what was happening, it was too late. Decker took the bullet, toppling to the floor with a loud thud. In that time span, Beth had managed to cross the distance between herself and Edwards and had her gun pointed at his heart, while his rested on her forehead.

Max knew that Beth was going to die trying to take Edwards down and she wouldn't have wanted it any other way. Max also knew that there was absolutely nothing he could do to stop her from sending herself to her death.

"You're braver than I thought," Edwards stated with a low chuckle, in a way that suggested that he found amusement in their current predicament.

"What a pity," Edwards lamented, in a mocking tone, "You would have been our greatest asset. Unfortunately-"

Max had been so sure that Edwards was going to fire the moment he finished his sentence. Max had been so sure that he would have seen both Beth and Edwards falling onto the ground at the same time. Max had been so sure that the CIA would have wanted it that way, to save the trouble of dealing with Beth, a girl whose intentions aren't all that clear.

Except Max hadn't predicted that Edwards would be the first to fall. Judging from the shocked expression written on Beth's face, she hadn't expected someone to save her either. Both Max and Beth turned in the direction of the assailant; both of their eyes widening in recognition.

The Director of Blackthorne.

Beth called out his name, but the Director's focus wasn't on her. Instead, his eyes scanned the crowd, of both the dead and alive, taking in everyone's presence. Then his dark eyes landed on Max.

Although the Director remained silent during the entire duration of it, his eyes spoke volumes. Anger, dislike, and perhaps a hint of concern? All directed at Max.

When the Director finally spoke, Max realized exactly who he was. The head of the Circle. The one that the CIA had been tracking down all along. And he had been there all along, right under their noses, pretending to work with the CIA. One who had been almost a grandfather like figure to Max during his time at Blackthorne, but it wasn't out of genuine care.

Perhaps, he was just keeping tabs on the progress of the Circle's next successor, Max thought wryly to himself.

"What do you want?" Beth's voice was shaking, even though she tried to keep it levelled. That spoke volumes to Max at how much power the Director had, if even Beth was shaken by his presence.

"You're my legacy, so you tell me," the Director responded, leaving Beth speechless for once. The static crackled in Max's ears, reminding him that he still had a comms unit in his ear the entire time.

And Townsend was relaying pertinent information that Max hadn't been so sure that he wanted to know, "He's the missing puzzle piece that we had been looking for all along. Ioseph Cavan the Fourth, undercover as the Director of the Blackthorne Institute as Noah Advark. He had two sons, Ioseph Cavan the Fifth and Joseph Cavan. Out of jealousy and greed for power, Joseph killed his older brother in order to become the next leader of the Circle. Or he would had been."

At this point, Townsend paused as Beth began to chant "Long live the Circle of Cavan" repeatedly.

"But Joseph fell in love with a woman and had a child," Townsend continued, his words rushed, drowning out Beth's chants. Although Max's attention remained riveted onto Beth, his mind was processing the information Townsend had just spilled, "That child is Bethany. And she had been the one to kill her father."

And now Beth was the one to kill her grandfather.

It happened in an instant. One moment, Beth had been chanting "Long live the Circle of Cavan," and in the next, her words changed to "The Circle of Cavan will die." As soon as the words left her mouth, Beth fired, her aim true and Ioseph Cavan the Fourth found a bullet in his skull, by the very same girl who he had saved moments prior.

"The Circle will die with me tonight," Beth stated, turning towards the crowd, her voice shaking, but her hand steadily held the tip of her gun to her heart.

"Beth!" a woman cried. Max recognized her as one of the CIA's higher ups, one who was always the calm and collected, while the younger agents began to crack under the pressure. Townsend tried to stop her as she brushed past him on her quest to get closer to Beth, but his pointed look didn't deter her at all.

"Mom," Beth called out softly, her eyes tearing up as she spotted the source of the voice. As Beth continued to speak to her mother, the same thoughts ran through all of the CIA members present. The biggest scandal in all of CIA history...a CIA agent fraternizing with the enemy.

"Remember last time, you told me that the next time we met, we would be a CIA agent and Circle member and not mother and daughter?" Beth was saying. Cammie's heart ached at hearing those words come out of her mouth, Circle member or not. Cammie couldn't imagine being pitted against her own mother, ever, and judging from Bex's contorted expression, Bex was feeling the exact same sentiments.

"The CIA wants you alive," Beth's mother stated, but everyone knew that only a selected few cared to keep her alive. It had been the same case with Solomon, despite his clear loyalties to the CIA, the higher ups in the CIA decided that it was too complicated to clean up the mess of a reputation that he had left behind. Just like it was going to be for Beth.

But Beth was adamant in killing herself. When Beth began to recount all of her deeds, Max couldn't help but still believe the good in her, to believe that she had a reason for doing all of those things.

"His name is Matthew Morgan and I killed him in cold blood." Rachel Morgan and Cammie began to tear up upon hearing his name, but the two of them held their emotions in check. Bex placed a comforting hand on Cammie's shoulder and Zach wanted to cross the room to be next to her, consequences be damned, but he stayed rooted to his position. Solomon kept a calm expression, but he was hurting badly on the inside.

"And I killed them in cold blood." Abigail Cameron's eyes hardened upon hearing the fate of Agent Richardson, having worked with the kind-hearted man once on a mission in Turkey. Although Agent Richardson was serious when he needed to be, Abby knew him as a humorous and light-hearted man. The last that she had heard of him was that he requested to be taken out of field work to focus on his family first. And now he was dead.

"The English diplomat and the rest of Ambassador James' family were collateral damage." When it happened, it had been on the English news channel for about a week. Townsend had been put on the investigation team when the police were unable to find anything substantial. Two weeks later, Townsend had been the one to personally sign the document that stated it was an accident. He had been bested by a nine year old and failed to deliver justice to Ambassador James and his family. Townsend curled his fist out of anger, but he had only his inability to blame.

"I left him to die in cold blood." Max knew, of course. His dear uncle had graciously decided to inform him how Marcus died when he caught up to him at the stadium, but he failed to mention that Beth had been there too. And she made it out alive. Without Marcus.

"I let all of that happen in cold blood." Cammie flinched at the mention of the summer where she had been held captive by the Circle. Although her memories never fully returned, she recalled bits and pieces, enough to know that she had been tortured. The blurry figure that was always at her bedside in her memories was Beth. The figure that Cammie had begged to make it all stop.

"All of it was an act." Beth may have convinced herself that it was an act, but her actions didn't lie. Beth cared. It wasn't an act.

"But I still let them die. In cold blood." They didn't have to die, but the Circle wanted publicity. There wasn't a single thing that Beth could have done to save them, already saving Amy was a feat in it of itself.

"I'm sorry." Max acted on instinct; his brain not even processing what he was doing. It was only in the aftermath did Max realize that he had fired, the momentum of the bullet sinking into Beth's arm threw off her aim and caused her to fire at her shoulder instead.

Her mother was the first one to rush to her side, sobbing as she began to recount all of her regrets for not being there for Beth like a mother should have, for not pulling her away from the Circle's influence like a CIA agent should have.

Blackthorne was located in the middle of nowhere, so it was a miracle that Beth didn't die from blood loss.

From the doorway of Beth's hospital room, Max stared at her prone body. Her skin was deathly pale, an unusual sight since she was always so tan. Needles stuck out of her arm and the white tape that held the needles in place blended in with her skin color. Although cleaned of the blood, her dark haired laid limp and matted, like it hadn't been cleaned for weeks.

When Max walked out of the hospital that day, he vowed to himself that was the last time he would see Beth. Avoiding her wouldn't be too hard since Beth would be in CIA custody and Max would be off somewhere.

Once upon a time, they were each other's best friend and confidant. Once upon a time, they were just two children racing down the halls of Blackthorne, their laughter piercing the silence. Once upon a time, Max had been a heartbroken boy at the loss of his best friend and Beth had been a girl who disappeared without a trace.

Perhaps in another life, they would have continued to be best friends, the best CIA duo, and lovers.

But in this life, they were CIA and Circle.

* * *

 **A/N: Hi guys!**

 **So this is just another version of chapter 17. Originally, I wrote this just out of curiosity because I realized that Beth was too focused on the Circle members to really register any of the CIA's reactions. So here you have it, another side of the story.**

 **Of course, this chapter isn't really necessary as part of the original story, but I thought it would include some extra details about what happened that day.**

 **Speaking of, I'm currently in the middle of writing another bonus chapter featuring Beth after she's released from CIA's custody. The epilogue vaguely skims over some important details that happened in the 10+ years of Beth's life until she meets Max again, but this chapter will be focusing on how Beth actually came to terms with being still alive. I'll post the chapter once I finished writing it. :)**

 **Thank you for reading!**

 **-MM**


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